The Final Countdown
by Objessions
Summary: AU - This is the last big story in the AU I started last spring. I've come to think of this universe as my Happily Ever After AU. Expect plenty of whump and h/c, family and friendship, and some romance and feels, too. Standard warnings and disclaimers apply.
1. Chapter 1

The Final Countdown

The raid went like clockwork.

The intel was solid. The sky cloudless, so the satellite view, along with infrared, was perfect. Mac, with Jack's help, was able to disarm the few booby traps scattered around the property and perimeter of the house without incident or injury.

The team operated seamlessly to take down the nest of assassins. That included Agent Briggs, who despite being attached to Milton as a temporary partner, not only acted like they'd been working together for years and had a strong rapport with Riley after only a few times out together, but also took down the first of Murdoc's people with a perfectly placed shot to the man's knee.

So why, as he wandered around the place, looking for any additional traps, or hidden spaces where evidence might be concealed, did Mac feel so unsettled?

He knew. But he didn't really want to think about it.

Letting Murdoc walk out of there, climb into his big black SUV and drive off into the sunny afternoon. That was what was eating him. And he was the one who'd come up with the plan. Tag Murdoc with one of the chips he and Riley developed – LoJack him, as Riley said – letting him think he'd just been drugged for capture, then let his people rescue him, and track him until they knew what his network looked like. Then use the information to take down Murdoc's weird league of assassins, and finally take him down for good.

It had seemed like such a good idea when he came up with it.

Now, checking closets' back walls for secret doors and going through drawers, examining window sills, it felt like the worst in a long line of half conceived plans that wound up getting him or people he cared about hurt. Sure, it would get the job done, but at what price?

The fact that Murdoc had diverted his private jet to visit this safehouse only hours before they scheduled their operation to take it down made Mac extremely uneasy. Matty, Riley, Rodgers, Milton, Briggs, all the core members of this organizationally constructed ops team waved it off, saying Murdoc had done erratic things like that in the months since they'd been dogging his steps.

But Mac still didn't like it. He also didn't like how strangely quiet Jack had been during the conversation. Jack was almost always the first one in the fray with an opinion, an argument, hell, just a joke to lighten the mood.

But not today. Today, Jack had sat back in his chair thoughtfully, rubbing the stubble along his jaw with the backs of his scarred knuckles.

He hadn't said anything in response when Matty had come over the comms and ordered him to do a perimeter sweep once the killers were in custody either, despite the fact that she'd ordered Mac to stay in the house and check for more traps and hidden rooms like they'd found in several of the other houses.

Mac smiled to himself when he remembered the pointed look Jack had given Milton when he was on his way out. It was his 'watch the kid's back or else' look. When Mac was younger, that protective bent used to drive him a little crazy. Sometimes it still did, but he tried to keep a lid on his annoyance. He knew it came from a good place, a place of wanting to make up for wrongs someone else had done.

He was shoving aside some clothes in a closet in one of the bedrooms and feeling along the paneling when Jack spoke from behind him, causing him to jump and Jack to chuckle.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" followed by soft apologetic laughter. "Sorry, kid. I figured you heard my big clomping boots."

Mac stepped backward out of the alcove and turned to Jack with a sheepish smile on his face. "I was too focused. And …" he trailed off.

"And you're still a little jumpy about this op after the monkey wrench that almost gone thrown in it by our very own Big Bad showing up earlier?"

"Yeah, I guess," he admitted.

"Being jumpy is permitted. Slacking off on the job isn't, Blondie." Matty's voice cut in over the comms.

"Not slacking, Matty. I just finished all the peripherals. This place is clean. Unless you want me to go behind the team combing over the basement?" he asked, hoping she'd say no.

Since last fall when Murdoc's people had managed to grab him more than once, he found confined spaces with limited escape to the outside bothered him vaguely. Not as much as heights, but it was a smaller version of the same feeling.

"And the perimeter's clear, too, Matty," Jack interrupted.

There was a pause. "Okay, then. Pack up and come on home." She paused again. "There's a storm over the Atlantic so we've lost tracking on Murdoc directly, but the jet has resumed its previous flight plan, so it seems like we can proceed as planned on our end."

"Thanks, Matilda, for that super encouraging info," Jack drawled. "We're out." Jack took out his ear piece and waited for Mac to do the same. "Well, ain't that some shit?" he frowned.

Mac shrugged. "We can't keep tabs on him 100% of the time. The transmitter on the tracker isn't perfect. They've got the jet. It's fine."

That was more words than Mac usually strung together if he was actually fine. "That why you just got pale there all of a sudden, kiddo?"

Mac smirked and shook his head. He spoke in purposely unconvincing tones. "The lighting is terrible in here. And you have a very active imagination."

Mac started out the door and Jack slung an arm around him as they headed downstairs to catch up with the rest of the team. "I get it, kid. I do. I hear his name and my stomach drops."

"Maybe that's just old age," Mac grinned now, ready to drop the subject already.

"And maybe you're all pale because you don't have me around in the morning to remind you to eat breakfast. It's probably low blood sugar because you haven't figured out how to take care of yourself like an adult," Jack teased back, willing to let it drop, if that's what Mac needed.

They waved at the other team members and headed outside to the waiting SUV. Mac gave Jack a little shove and a mock glare. "I'll have you know that I was up an hour early and cooked an excellent breakfast for Mel and I. Home fries, steak and eggs, fresh veggie juice. French press coffee. I did the works."

Jack laughed a little. "I told you she was a good influence."

Mac climbed into the back of the SUV, chuckling as he closed the door. When Jack got in on the other side, he found Mac on his phone, grinning like a teenager.

"I swear, no new bullet holes this time." Mac was shaking his head, close to laughing. "No grazes either. You can ask Jack!" Mac held up the phone in Jack's direction. "Tell her I kept my promise."

Jack took the phone. "Hey, there, Melody. How are ya? … You bet … Our boy is all in one piece … I know, surprised the hell out of me, too." He grinned, his affection for his soon-to-be sort-of-daughter-in-law, readily apparent. "I'm good, too, but I'd appreciate it if you maybe asked about it in a slightly less nuresey tone." Jack chuckled again. "Yes, ma'am. Safe and sound and right on time. Actual not-kicked-out-of-them Scout's honor."

He handed the phone back to Mac, who seemed torn between glaring and grinning at the moment. "See?" he said, and it was reassuring, rather than defensive. "I'll call you when we're in the air ... I should be back at Building Two before your shift is over … I'd love that. Tacos on the beach would be great. Is it going to be warm enough? … Okay. I love you, too."

Mac ended the call and looked at Jack, almost embarrassed. "What?" he asked in response to the look Jack was giving him.

"Five to go, Mac. Five more of his little nests of death and then we'll take him down, just like we planned when we tagged him, kid."

"I know," Mac said, then he cleared his throat. "I know. It's a solid plan. I just … Wish it was done and then again … part of me doesn't. Mostly because I'm constantly thinking about all the ways this could go wrong and screw up what we want."

"I can tell. You don't usually worry about the little things like whether it's a good idea to eat dinner on the beach … or tiny details of our plans … or having a plan at all."

Mac nodded. Maybe he was overly focused on the little things. He'd folded the napkins at breakfast into elaborate origami shapes. Mel had raised an eyebrow at him, but she hadn't commented. "True enough."

When they got to cruising altitude a while later, Mac tried to call Mel, but got the message that she was transporting a patient from the wellness clinic to the hospital with an acute case of appendicitis. He looked a little dejected but left her his "I'm safely coming home to you" message. Jack called Sarah and they spoke briefly. She was home with Fred, staying off her swollen feet, getting used to the idea that by the time the holidays rolled around there would be two new Daltons filling their apartment. Which even though it was an executive suite, was perhaps not ideally suited to a growing family.

The rest of the team was still chatting about the mission, but Mac and Jack just shared a look and each grabbed a blanket out from under their respective sofas. As they got comfortable, Jack asked, "Planning on being up late tonight?" with a smile.

Mac grinned, blushing a little. "She said dinner at the beach. Hotel room off the beach is a pretty short walk."

"Practicing for being newlyweds?"

Mac laughed. "If it's already good, it doesn't change so much when you get married, does it?"

"Nah. Well, a little … It gets better."

Jack closed his eyes.

After a minute, Mac asked, with a smile in his own voice, "You got a big exciting night out planned, too?"

"No, I've got a toddler running her mama who is supposed to be resting right ragged, and a wife who is exhausted from carrying around the babies she isn't already chasing, the hard way. I'm taking a nap so I can hold up my side," he chuckled. On a lot of people it would have been said with a bitching and complaining tone. Jack actually sounded like he was looking forward to it.

Mac closed his own eyes, sighing a little. It was mostly a content sound, mostly related to his plans for the evening and to being pleased that Jack was getting the things he'd always talked about, getting a little more than being a surrogate parent to the guy he shared a Wookie Life Debt with.

Jack was drifting off when he heard Mac mumble sleepily to himself.

"Only five more. And we're free."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N - Here's some post-mission processing, some hints, and some slightly racy snuggling, on request. ~ J_

"Hey you," came softly from the doorway.

Mac looked up from his computer and smiled. "Hey." He took in Mel's off center messy ponytail and rumpled scrubs. "I'd ask if it was a rough afternoon, but I can already tell."

She glanced at her watch. "Afternoon? Mac, it's almost seven. You haven't looked at your cell in hours, have you?"

He glanced around, realizing it had gotten dark outside his office window and the city was awake for the night. "I guess I haven't. Were you trying to reach me?"

"Yeah, but I haven't been back long," she replied, taking the seat Jack usually occupied on the other side of Mac's desk.

"Sorry, I didn't realize I had the volume off," he said, frowning and taking it out of his pocket, just as it blared with the ringtone he'd most recently assigned to Jack, some Metallica song that Jack had played on repeat the last time he'd been in Jack's car. "Or … maybe I didn't."

She wasn't quite squinting at him, but she was giving him a very speculative look. "When you didn't pick up, I tried the phone at home. I might have worried you fibbed about not being hurt, but I've got Jack thoroughly on my team when it comes to your wellbeing and I knew he would have tattled. I figured you were going blind on paperwork or in a meeting with Matty, so I just decided to come over instead of getting a Lyft and heading home."

"Sorry, I was incommunicado. I got caught up in …" He trailed off and looked at his phone.

"What is it?"

"Just occurred to me that it was still light out when Jack said he was going to run home and check on everybody and come back with food. I've had about five texts from him, too."

"Well, you better call him before he assumes Phoenix is under siege or something," she smiled, but was still looking at him with something very like worry.

Mac hit the call button. "Hey, Jack, sorry I … No, I know … Is everybody okay there? … Fine … No, I said I know … She's here right now. She had a long day, too … Okay, I'll ask." Mac looked at Mel, raising one eyebrow in what looked like a fairly typical combination of amusement and annoyance. "Jack and Sarah want to know if we're still planning on beach dinner even though your day went sideways or if we want to join them for family dinner. Which is soon. Because I'm not supposed to still be here obsessing about the intel we have on Murdoc, because I should have realized he hadn't come back with food hours ago. Which he further insisted that I say out loud to you so he could hear me."

Mac shook his head and sighed, but his expression was mostly just affectionate. Mel grinned. "Normally even after a totally sideways day I'd say yes so he and I could gang up on you about letting work pull you in like this, but I'm beat. Too beat even for beach tacos. I kind of want home and take out and a shower and pjs." She paused. "Is everything okay over there though? Why didn't he come back?"

Mac was able to answer without checking back with Jack. "He texted me before, I guess. Sarah was beat. She needed some rest, so he stayed."

Loudly enough for Jack to hear, Mel said, "Gestating two melon headed Dalton babies. No wonder."

"Jack says ha ha," Mac responded, the returned his attention to his phone call. "So, I guess I'll see you in the morning. Wanna ride in together so I can tell you what I got so caught up in this afternoon … Okay, okay, this evening, because afternoon got away from me. I admit it. You happy? … See you then, Big Guy."

Mac put the phone back in his pocket and smiled at Mel. "You definitely had the more difficult day today. You pick the takeout place. I'll drive."

0-0-0

Not too much later, they were lying in bed, covered only with their sheet, with Mel's head resting in the middle of Mac's chest. He ran his fingers absently through her still damp waves. She sighed with general contentment. He stretched and kissed the top of her head. "That was one of the nicest showers I have ever had. I don't even mind that that stall was never designed for two and we nearly fell out."

He could feel her smile against his skin. "We either need a bigger place, or you need to engineer a creative shower expansion solution, Mac."

"I take it you enjoyed it, too," he said, grinning.

"Mmm. I think that goes without saying."

He laughed.

"Besides," she continued. "It's not like you can sneak an injury by me in the shower. Post mission showers should be mandatory from here on out."

He laughed again, "Normally, I'd tell you that you need to be more trusting of your almost husband. But I think in this case I'll make an exception and just go along with you."

It was her turn to laugh. "So that's how to get you all agreeable. I'll have to remember that." They were quiet for a few minutes and something told her that his silence had become overly thoughtful.

"What is it?" She tilted her head up, so she could see his face.

"Nothing," he said unconvincingly.

"Don't 'nothing' me, Mac. Something's obviously bothering you. If it wasn't you wouldn't have still been parked at your desk when I finally got back to Phoenix tonight. And you definitely wouldn't be lying here in bed all quiet with Thai food getting cold on the counter," she added to sound slightly less like she was prying into his thoughts and more like she was just teasing. She didn't like to push, but it was never great when he got all up in his own head. He'd have nightmares and be exhausted tomorrow.

He sighed. "Just thinking that I hope there's not too many more 'post mission' anythings in the future. As pleasant as the shower was, I'd rather just do that for fun, or ya know, exercise."

That cracked her up, but he still wasn't telling her everything. "What else?" He shrugged. She sat up, tossing her hair back and looking down at him with narrowed eyes. "Don't make me resort to my favorite method of Mac interrogation."

"You wouldn't," he shifted slightly. Not about to let him out of bed, even if he didn't tell her one more thing that was on his mind, she had her hands resting gently on either side of his waist before he could roll out of bed. "That is wildly unfair," he grinned up at her, squirming just a little.

"I never agreed to fight fair," she smirked. "And you being ticklish is just the sort of unfair advantage someone like me, who does not have the training to just wrestle you to the bed needs when I don't want to let you get away."

He laughed at the almost but not quite serious expression on her face. "Okay, I'll talk," he smirked. "I'm waiting," he glanced down at her hands, expecting her to take them away.

"Information first. Removal of threat second."

He shook his head at how her eyes sparkled with amusement. She enjoyed this particular advantage just a little too much. "Fine. I was going over intel all afternoon. Past missions, today, intel we have that we're planning future stuff around. Something's bugging me, but I don't know what yet. Is that enough? Or do I have to devise some diabolical method of escape and retaliation?" he smirked.

"Are you going to talk to Jack about it?"

"Of course. Now cut it out!" he nearly yelped as she wriggled her fingers just slightly.

She laughed and hopped out of bed, grabbing her robe as she did so. He propped himself up on his elbow and gave her a very wry look.

"There's going to be retaliation isn't there?"

"Probably?" he grinned then.

"Tonight?"

"Maybe." He sat up and pulled on some sweats, then joined her at their bedroom door to head into the kitchen to eat their dinner. "You know, we could move back into the house."

"You'd want to go back there?" she asked.

"I mean, I put it on the market, but we could live there until it sells, or until after the wedding anyway."

The apartment was kind of small.

"Are you sure? Even though Murdoc knows where it is?"

Mac grinned. "Yeah. Why not? Murdoc knows where this place is too." He shrugged. "Besides, the house has a pool … And a bigger shower."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack stepped out of his car into the afternoon sun. It was actually weird to be coming back to Mac and Bozer's old place again, a place he'd called home for a while himself. He'd been surprised when Mel and Mac had moved back in here. At first it had been 'until after the wedding' but after only a month or so, Mac had taken it off the market. No reason to sell it, he said, once Murdoc was taken out and never going to come calling again.

Besides, Mac had said, for everything bad that might have found its where there, the house was the place he'd finally learned how to be happy. It seemed foolish to just let go of the things that led him to this place from which he was going to build the rest of his life, his family.

Jack applauded the sentiment. And he was glad they'd decided to stay there. For one thing because it was a great house on a beautiful piece of property, and for another because he and Sarah had just put an offer on a little place up the street. He was pretty sure they were going to get the place. It didn't have a big yard or near the amount of space Mac had, but it was plenty for the … Jesus, the five of them, he thought with a momentary thrill.

He loved little Freddie like she was his own, for sure, just like Mac, honestly. But he couldn't wait to meet the newest additions to the Dalton clan. A few more months. He hoped like hell they'd have everything settled by then. First because he didn't want to go out on any more missions and leave Sarah at home with three babies all on her own. Second because he didn't want anything to interfere with Mac and Melody's plans for their wedding.

Also … he didn't admit this out loud to anyone, other than his dad, and it's not like Jack Sr. was going to tattle on him … His shoulder had started coming back more than he and Steve had thought it would. He could probably count on more time in the field than they'd thought when his rehab stalled after what happened in Tula last year.

And he wanted to retire from the life. Once he wrapped his head around it, he really didn't want to keep it up anymore. He wanted his family, a home that wasn't just a place to crash between missions, a life that had some predictability. And more than any of that, he knew Mac wanted out too. And if he didn't leave, he wasn't sure Mac would go through with it. Jack wanted a normal life for that kid, hell, more than he wanted one for himself.

Of course, Jack also had a tiny inkling of how he might keep them both entertained once they were no longer putting their asses on the line for the Phoenix all the time.

He put in the security code at the fence near the walkway and it buzzed. He walked inside and nodded at the two agents currently on call for the 24-hour security Matty was providing. He rang the doorbell just to let them know he was there, but then put in the second, different code and used his two keys to open the several locks that were in place in the current locked unlocked pattern Mac had told him they were using.

When he walked into the kitchen, Mel was filling her travel mug and she looked up at him with a sunny smile. "Hey, Jack! Mac'll be right out. He's still in the shower."

She turned and got out a mug from the cupboard and filled it, stirred cream and sugar into it, and passed it across the counter as Jack settled onto his accustomed bar stool. "Thanks, Melody."

She came around the counter, throwing her canvas bag over her shoulder. She gave Jack a one-armed hug as she passed. "Take care of him today," she said.

"Always, Mel. Always."

"Good. Me, too."

Mac was just coming out of the bathroom as she was getting ready to go out the door, and he jogged over to kiss her. They were absolutely terrible at quick goodbyes lately. "Have a good day today."

"I will," Mel smiled. "You really going to do it?" she asked, keeping any slight trepidation out of her voice pretty successfully.

"I think so," he replied quietly. "I'll let you know how it goes."

After he reset the security system after Mel left, Mac joined Jack at the counter. Jack was just finished with the coffee Mel had given him. "You ready, kid."

Mac grinned; he knew it was a nervous grin, but there was some real excitement behind it, too.

"I'm ready of you are, Teach."

0-0-0

"You're doin' great, Mac," Jack said with a very approving smile on his face. "But, it's gettin' a little choppy. You want me to take the wheel?"

Mac shook his head, checking the instrument panel. "No, I've got it," he replied. His voice was total Mac-in-problem-solving mode and his expression was the one reserved for doing math.

"Are you calculating how long it would take for us to reach terminal velocity?" Jack asked, slightly amused.

Mac had to laugh a little at that, if only because it was true. "Maybe a little."

"You are supposed to be flying my damned plane there, Angus."

"Hey, none of that," Mac said with a smirk. "I won't let anything happen to your baby." He paused. "Besides, we're almost home."

Jack grinned, casually scanning the instrument panel on his prized possession. A Cessna-TTx that Jack had won in a card game. He'd wanted to name it Millennium Falcon 2.0, but the Douglas Adams quote Mac had gotten him on a plaque to hang up in the cockpit was the thing, more than anything else, that had dictated the name. It was a literary reference that had made Mac laugh and it was a reminder of the thing they both thought was the truest about each other.

"You really want to take her in today?" Jack asked, still wondering a little at what had spurred Mac's decision to finally try landing again. The only other time he'd done it Jack had been unconscious and Mac had nightmares about it for months afterward.

"Yeah," Mac nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"Alright then," Jack grinned at him, leaning back in the seat and folding his arms to make it clear he trusted Mac to do the job without Jack's own hands hovering over the co-pilot's yoke he was sitting in front of. "She's all yours." He scanned the panels, the ground, and the sky around them. "Probably time for Approach procedures."

Mac nodded. "I know."

He picked up the mic for the radio.

"Van Nuys Approach, Cessna-TTX Heart of Gold student pilot, eight miles southeast, request clearance to land."

"Roger, Heart of Gold, you are cleared for the option."

He glanced at Jack, momentarily unable to recall what that particular piece of lingo meant. They were descending, the part of the flight Jack usually took over, and the one that made Mac most actively uncomfortable still.

"He means there's no other traffic and to just go ahead. Remember?"

"Yeah, thanks." Mac had never expected Jack to be a patient teacher of anything, but as a flight instructor, the guy was just awesome. "Roger, Approach. Heart of Gold is …"

"Hold on there, Heart of Gold," the voice from the tower said, cutting him off. "Traffic at three o'clock, three miles."

"Looking, Approach." Mac's eyes searched the skies, not just to his three o'clock, but the whole area. "Approach, negative contact," Mac replied, his voice rising in pitch with his tension.

"Heart of Gold we have radar confirmation."

"Roger; looking." Mac looked around again. "Approach, traffic in sight, please advise."

"Heart of Gold, do a 360 and re-enter for clearance."

"Roger, wilco," Mac replied, once again glancing at Jack.

"Want me to bring her in this time, Mac? It's fine if you do."

"I …"

"You got nothin' to prove out here, Mac."

"Alright, yeah. That was a real curveball."

Jack sat up and took the yoke. He tipped Mac a wink, "Sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of your flight on Dalton Airways."

"Dalton's Fly By Night Flight School, you mean," Mac said with as much good humor as he could muster. He really thought he was ready to take on the whole flight today, and he'd gotten damned close. But he wasn't about to put it to the test when unforeseen circumstances cropped up. Jack loved this plane more than his dad's car. Fortunately, instead of saying anything else, Jack just laughed.

When they were on the ground again a little while later, Mac was getting ready to get out of the cockpit but Jack stopped him. "You did amazing today, bud. That was the best flight you've done. Your takeoff was perfect."

Mac gave an embarrassed half smile. "Thanks. Now that we're on the ground again, I feel like kind of a wuss for not just bringing her in. It wasn't even anything complicated, but when we were up there, another unexpected piece of traffic felt like a much bigger deal than it was."

"One of these days, Mac, landing this plane will come as easy as parking your Jeep. Don't you worry."

"I know, I know; you worry enough for both of us."

"Damn straight."

Mac's phone chimed with a text. He looked at it and laughed out loud.

"What's up, bud?" Jack asked as they got out and came around the plane to the door of the hangar.

"Matty wants us in the office."

"She say what for?"

"Nope. All she said was, 'Hey, Maverick, get your skinny but into the War Room and make sure you bring Goose'."


	4. Chapter 4

Mac scrolled through the briefing materials on his tablet, glancing out the window occasionally. After a while, he noticed Jack smirking at him. He grinned and shook his head. "What are you staring at, Old Man."

"You haven't read a lick a that report, have ya?"

Mac did his best to look offended, which Jack had to admit wasn't half bad. "I've been reading for over an hour."

"Right … So tell me about this Phillip J. Frye mission Matty was so keen to interrupt a day off for."

Mac laughed. "Did you just equate locating, escorting, and protecting a biologist with important information about rewilding Federal lands and stopping poaching in our national parks to being a bad futuristic delivery boy?"

Jack shrugged. "I kinda did. Ain't exactly what we're used to, now is it?"

Mac shrugged this time. "It's important to the actual think tank part of Phoenix."

Jack was smirking again. "Details then, Mr. It's Important."

Mac frowned at him. "We're hiking in to the research station, fixing some equipment so she can download the data onto a zip drive, and escorting her back to Phoenix. Easy. Like actually easy, not like 'oh, this is gonna be easy' but let's get half killed and trapped underground because we got sent in with no idea of what's really going on' or shot at or something. Then, long weekend with our respective loved ones. Which for me is going to include pretending to wedding plan over Skype with Mel's parents because she just doesn't have the heart to tell them we didn't want a big wedding."

Jack's smirk hadn't gone away. "What's our new friend's name?"

Mac blinked for a second. "Um … Dr. … Michaels?" he said looking and sounding totally unsure.

"No, but good guess." Jack shook his head, but it looked more fond than anything. "Last name is Evans. Her first name is Michelle, so that's probably where Michaels came from. Don't suppose you can tell me the coordinates we're going in at either."

"Um …"

Jack raised his eyebrows and smiled in a way that was almost but not quite a smirk.

"Okay, I get it. I'm distracted. But this is really not that big a deal. We have sat coverage the whole way in, there's no outside threat. There's just busted equipment and some kind of minor injury … Do I at least have that part?"

Jack laughed. Mac asking him for details about a mission was something he might never let the kid live down.

"You do. She messed up her hand repairing the satellite after the windstorm they had out here last week. Hence her not being able to repair the other equipment or carry it out on her own. Not a ton of supplies out there, no way to get air support in, and she was due to come out last week. She'll be on lean rations waiting for her hand to be functional without backup. So in we go."

Mac grinned. "Actually sounds kind of fun."

Jack nodded. "It does." He gave Mac a speculative look. "You think this is Matty's way of showing us we could be useful at Phoenix without the constant bullet dodging and bomb defusing?"

Mac shrugged. "Maybe. Doesn't matter. It would be way too easy to get sucked back in to the other side of it. I … We … want kids. I'm not …" he trailed off. "I want a job I can be honest about."

Jack got up off the sofa he was sitting on and moved to sit next to Mac. _Uh oh_ , Mac thought, _that is major protective face. I'm in for it now._

"You know there's no way you'd turn into your dad, kid. You're too up front a guy for that."

Mac smiled, albeit a little sadly. "He didn't mean to turn into him either, Jack," he reminded his partner, almost gently.

"Yeah, well, I've met the guy, Mac, and I don't want you to take this as me trashing your dad, because he's at least tried to make things right … But you are ten times the man your father is."

Mac smiled at how serious Jack looked when he said it. "Thanks, Jack," was all he said. "And you've made your point. I need my head in the game, no matter what the game is, not just hoping Melody isn't promising her dad a big church wedding, so he won't yell, while I'm gone."

This time Jack really laughed. "Vegas, baby! I'm tellin' you, you'd never regret just disappearing some Friday night and coming back Mr. and Mrs. all legal like."

Mac smiled and shook his head. "Nah, I mean, I kind of don't want to start out with her parents hating me. We already had to cancel flying out so we could meet in person twice because I got hurt, and for all they know I just blew them off for some unimportant engineering conference."

Jack laughed, shifting in his seat as he felt the pitch of the aircraft change. They were landing soon. "I bet her folks like you just fine."

Mac nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

"You've always worried about what people think of you, Mac. Makes you try too damned hard." Mac laughed. That was probably fair. "You think Mel spends any time worrying what your old man thinks of her?"

Mac snickered, glancing out the window. He'd noticed the change in the sound of the engines and the angle of their flight, too. He was so much more aware of the more subtle working of flying than he used to be.

"She doesn't give a good goddamn what my father thinks of her or anybody else, for that matter. She's always pleasant to him, but … she won't ever forget that he hurt me. That's just Mel though That's just you, too, actually." He paused. "She says you like her and that's all she was worried about anyway."

Jack grinned. "I like the hell out of her. Something I frankly never expected to say when I met her." He chuckled a little at the memory of their reactions to the new nurse at Phoenix several years ago. "Hard as woodpecker lips. Or she used to be anyway. You've softened her up some."

Mac laughed. "You wish. She's still tough as nails when she needs to be. She's just sneakier about it with us than she was." He frowned out the window. "Looks like we're coming in to the airport. I better at least glance over the report with something like focus."

Jack hummed to himself. He was thinking that for a chance he kind of liked Mac a little distracted by wanting a life outside of work, but he wondered if his single-minded focus on the finish line was really going to make the kid happy. Instead of dwelling on it, he decided to just check their gear.

0-0-0

"Hey you!" Melody did her best not to laugh. His blue eyes were the only things revealing that she was actually walking up to her fiancé. "What happened out there?"

Mac smiled and shook his head. Okay, now the smile made it certain, she thought affectionately. "There was a slight mudslide?"

"Slight? You look like a little kid who discovered mud puddles for the first time." He laughed. There was actually a picture of him somewhere at about three when that had actually happened. Probably did look pretty similar, he thought.

"What are you doing down here at Medical? Are you okay?" she asked, pretty sure he must be since he hadn't called or texted anything other than he was on his way home.

"Yeah, I'm fine … Filthy, but fine. Dr. Evans has a pretty busted up hand and I offered to escort her down here before I went to get cleaned up. Jack was delivering her data for her and then hitting the showers. He was even dirtier than me." Mac paused. "Speaking of excellent questions about why who is or isn't at Medical, what are you doing over here in Building Two?"

He was more curious than uncomfortable, although she could tell the mud hadn't just dried in his hair and on his face because he was fidgeting just a little and that mean it was probably ground through his clothes into most of his skin and itching like crazy. If he were a little more uncomfortable she might be able to put the conversation off until they were home, but she didn't think that was the case.

"I … um … My replacement over here quit. Yesterday. No notice; nothing. Matty asked … And …"

"And you've missed it," he said. It wasn't a question, and his smile was very fond.

She nodded. "I guess I'm not cut out for dispensing band aids and flu shots to office types. I like a little more excitement in my day. And I figured, we're not planning on leaving LA any time soon … I'm not going to take field assignments or anything. But I do kind of want to go back to head of nursing for the tactical and operations wing again. Is that crazy?"

Mac shook his head and pulled her into a hug. "Of course not! I want you doing the work that makes you happy, Mel. I know you've been kind of bored. You loved this job until you had to help patch me sorry ass up that last time. If you want to be here, why would I think that was crazy?"

She shrugged, "You've just been so focused on getting away from all things Phoenix …I shouldn't even have just said yes without talking to you first …"

"Don't be silly," he said, finally releasing her from their hug. "You make your own career decisions. Besides, being a nurse isn't exactly a top secret job you'd ever have to lie about. Head of Nursing at the Phoenix Foundation is a job even your parents can know you have. Who cares which office it's in?"

She hugged him again, then laughed. "Now we're both filthy. Good thing my shift is over anyway."

"I guess it is," he grinned looking at the silty dust he'd left all over her light pink scrubs. "Besides, I remember agreeing to shared post-mission showers."

She smirked, "I seem to recall that was because you had a tendency to conceal injuries. You just told me you were fine."

Mac smiled mischievously. "Yeah, well, it takes time to change bad habits. You never know what you might find under all this mud."

She laughed and leaned into her just-reclaimed office for her bag and keys. "I'm outta here, Judy," she called out to her relief for the evening.

"Yes, ma'am," the other nurse replied with a bright smile. "It's good to have you back, Boss."

As they headed for the elevator, Mac said, "Just so you know, Jack's already invited himself over to dinner and since I thought you were on second shift at the regular office I just said sure. So, we may have to put a rush on that shower."

She laughed. "Or we can send him to get takeout from that place he loves over in East LA and take our time."

"I like the way you think."


	5. Chapter 5

After an uneventful few weeks, Matty finally called them in after a series of missions so routine as to be boring (so boring Mac got a more than adequate amount of sleep out in the field). She didn't say what she wanted, only issued a brief order to report to the War Room for a briefing.

Mac had gotten the text while they were still in bed. He'd just started smelling coffee from the automatic brewer. Mel was supposed to be off anyway. He'd woken her gently, said he might be gone for a day or two on assignment, and kissed her long and well, before he left her to drift back off, wrapping herself around his pillow as a poor, but temporarily acceptable, substitute.

Unlike in the past where a text from Matty would have sent him right out the door without so much as pausing to check whether his go bag had everything he preferred in it, he fixed himself a cup of coffee in a travel mug and took one of the premade breakfast sandwiches, which Mel had made and frozen for both of them (but mostly for him since he was much more likely to forget to eat than she was) for unexpected mornings, and microwaved it.

While it was heating he checked his bag, texted Jack to be sure his partner was on his way, and left Melody a short note in case she didn't remember him waking her. She was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination. She'd worked nights for too long, she said. He thought she had the look of someone who'd never been a morning person. Kind of like Jack. But her grumpy eye rubbing at being woken up in the thin pink light of early morning was a hell of a lot cuter than his partner's.

He heard several chirps from his phone on the seat but ignored it. He really needed to remember to turn on the function where it knew he was driving and bounced back the texts with a message that he was unavailable. After a couple of minutes, the phone rang. He shook his head and hit the button on his steering wheel to let the Bluetooth answer it. Before he could say hello, he was cut off with Matty's sharp voice.

"Where the hell are you, Blondie?"

In spite of himself, even after all this time, even telling himself it's not like she was going to be his boss forever, he flinched a little at her irritated tone. "I'm on my way in."

"I expected you here twenty minutes ago!"

"I … I left as soon as I had my eyes all the way open," felt like a good response. The text hadn't implied there was any rush.

"Mmm. I think I liked you better when you were afraid of me, Baby Einstein."

Mac rolled his eyes. "I _know_ I like _you_ better when you call me Mac instead of snarky nicknames."

"He's gotten so sassy. I blame you," came over the speaker.

A familiar voice could be heard protesting in the background. "Don't look at me. I came right in as soon as you texted, Matty. And I wasn't even sassy when you told me the coffee machine was broken."

"Kiss ass," Mac said, hoping Jack would hear, but would also hear the grin in his voice. "I'm nearly there. Is it urgent?"

"We've gotten the go ahead on that recruiting and training center of Murdoc's up in Vancouver. It's ripe for the taking; a house full of recruits and lots of weapons on site, but the man himself is in Moscow again."

He didn't reply that if she'd said it was about Murdoc he wouldn't have stopped for coffee. Mostly because after hearing that there wasn't going to be any in the War Room he was glad he had. Instead, he just said, "Be there in less than ten."

"Can't you hurry it up a little … Mac? I want you guys wheels up in an hour," she said, not quite emphasizing his name, but making an obvious effort to not use a nickname. Mac frowned. She fell back on old habits when she was worried about something.

"Matty, I'm good at physics. That doesn't mean I get to defy its laws. I didn't hurry because I figured this was another … you know … think tank thing. That's sort of what we do most of the time now." He was met with silence. She was worried about more than she was willing to say. "I can see the parking structure. I'll be right there," he assured her, the levity gone from his voice.

Matty didn't reply, just ended the call. _Just like old times_ , Mac thought wryly. He hit his signal to take the quicker way into the structure.

0-0-0

The short hop up the North American coast, the pleasant fall weather, and their expectation that Murdoc's people didn't have any idea they were in Phoenix's crosshairs, had the guys and their team feeling pretty good about how the mission was likely to go. Even though they agreed that something was up with Matty.

It became clear on their approach that maybe they'd expected too much kindness out of the mission gods. The area had been swept thoroughly by all available technological means before the team's arrival, along with plenty of backup, but that they'd missed something became clear when a landmine blew the front of the lead SUV less than a hundred yards into the compound.

Mac and Jack were in the next to last vehicle so there wasn't directly impacted, but it still screeched everything to rapid halt. They both took a second to get their bearings and visually check in with the other. Then, without a word, Mac opened the door and slid out of the SUV, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Jack swore but drew his favorite M9 and followed. Mac was at least staying low and looking around as he advanced toward the overturned vehicle smoking and burning up ahead. Their couple of medics was doing the same thing from the other side. When Jack caught up to Mac a minute later, he said, "What the hell are you doing? The med team's on this."

Mac tossed him a questioning look, like his intent should have been obvious to his partner. "None of the tech caught anything resembling an indication of explosives. Anybody on this team better qualified to do the sweep to get us up to the house?"

Mac raised an eyebrow, waiting for Jack to try and talk him out of taking point on this.

Jack shook his head. "History tells me it's all you for sure, kid. Guess I'll fall back on what we got used to once upon a time, too."

Mac grinned as they approached the burning vehicle and he saw that the team inside were all conscious and moving on their own as the medics helped them out. He glanced back at Jack. "Not too many old habits, old man. I'm not sure I'm up to that level of chatter."

"Very funny, Hollywood," Jack grumbled, but he did so with a smile to mask how nervous this whole situation had him. Instead of saying they should abort the mission, which was his first impulse given that their entry intel hadn't been solid, he just got into position to cover Mac and let the kid do his thing.

Six disarmed landmines later, the entire team, minus one injury that had to be medivaced after the first explosion, were positioned on the perimeter of the house. Mac crouched down in the edge of some heavy shrubbery, taking in the sprawling single story structure. Jack joined him a moment later.

"I don't like this, Mac," Jack said quietly. "It's makin' me twitchy as Hell."

Mac looked over at Jack's face for a second. Then he nodded. "Yeah." He thought about how Jack looked this morning on the flight in, texting back and forth with Sarah, talking to Freddie over video chat. That was so much to put on the line. "You wanna call it?" he asked, his tone conveying no preference one way or the other for proceeding or aborting.

Jack frowned at him. "After all that? You outta your mind, kid?"

Mac snorted laughter and started looking around. "I'm not the one with an imminent houseful of kids, Jack. You just look like you'd rather be somewhere else, and you're the tac guy. The intel's obviously not great. If you want to abort, I won't argue."

"We are gettin' this bastard, Mac. I'm tired of him hanging over our lives like the goddamned sword of Damocles."

Mac's eyes went wide, even as he moved to the next covered position with Jack following close behind.

When they settled into the next position, Mac replied with a grin, "Damocles, huh? Nice classical reference, big guy."

"Hey, I've told you a million times I like history. Myths and legends are parta all that."

"If only you knew which ones were fiction so you'd stop doing things like avoiding black cats," Mac snickered. Then he was on the move again.

"You know what," Jack said. "You think just because I can't prove that stuff to you, none of it's real, but …"

"I just think it's funny that you have no common sense when it comes to stuff you ought to be afraid of … like jumping out of airplanes or people shooting at you … but a broken mirror gives you a heart attack. Mel thinks it's adorable."

"That woman just likes seein' me freaked out," Jack laughed. "I forgive her though because she helps keep your sorry ass in one piece. And she seems to make you want it that way, sooo …"

Mac shook his head. "I make five guys, minimum, in that front room," he said, going back to the mission since Jack was okay with not scrubbing it.

Jack squinted for a minute.

"I've got seven." Mac nodded. He trusted Jack's count. His sniper's eyes were as sharp as they came. "... Alright. Let's do this."

Jack got back on comms and reported out how things looked from their angle and got a report from the two-person team approaching from the other side. Then, Tactical breached the entrances.

Mac did the smart thing and hung back until the entrances were cleared. When he was younger he had a tendency to want to just barrel in with the Tac guys, over the last couple of years though, he'd learned to acknowledge the importance of his own skillset.

Those guys were first in. His job was to be last out, to make sure places like this were clear for proper investigation and evidence collection. In a lot of ways, he realized, it was a lot like the job he'd taken on in the Army.

When he responded to the calls of, "Clear!" by entering the house, Jack gave him an approving smile. He grinned back and shook his head. The tac vest was a concession to Jack and Melody's dual conspiracy to keep him bullet hole free, which he had to acknowledge wasn't the world's worst idea, but the looking before he leaped was internally motivated. There were a lot of ways to save the world, he supposed.

While the last house had been devoid of the sorts of traps Mac was well-equipped to deal with, better equipped in fact than anyone else at Phoenix, this facility boasted enough of them, that by the mid-afternoon, Mac was drenched in sweat, his hands and arms were almost shaking with fatigue, and he was starting to be ready to call for a break.

"How ya holdin' up there, bud?" Jack asked from off to the side. "You want a water?"

Mac didn't even look up from where he was carefully untangling wires. "Jack, I told you to wait outside for this one."

"Kid, how many times?" Mac smirked, knowing what came next. "You go kaboom, I go kaboom, right?"

"Yeah, well, that was fine when getting us vaporized didn't leave a widow and a bunch of kids that wouldn't know their dad, Jackass."

"I hate to tell you, Mac, but as far as our relationship goes, not one damned thing has changed. I'm not out until you are."

Mac almost paused in what he was doing to look at Jack then. There was something in his voice that Mac couldn't quite place, but he was too close to disarming this particular bomb, and disconnecting it from the trigger plates that appeared to be placed in no particular pattern across the floor.

Instead of trying to kick him out again, Mac just nodded. "Yeah."

"So, you want that water, or ..?"

"I'm good for now, Jack. Almost there with this one." He absently used the back of the hand holding his Swiss Army knife to wipe his forehead and shifted his weight a little to take the pressure off his knees from how he was crouched down next to the device. "Do me a favor though and back up a little. I know it won't make any difference if this blows, but it makes me edgy to have anyone too close."

Jack nodded like Mac was looking at him and took a couple of steps back, still visually scanning the area for other obvious threats while other team members worked in rooms that Mac had already cleared and deemed a safe distance away from the active site.

"This outta do it," Mac said almost under his breath, but Jack heard it anyway.

Jack grinned. Mac always talked to himself when he was disarming explosives, he always had. Jack didn't think the kid even realized it. Then the sharp report of a handgun split the silence and Mac dropped to the floor.

"Mac!" Jack shouted, dropping down next to him immediately.

Mac was already struggling to get back up for another look at the device. Jack tried to keep him down. "It got the vest, Jack," he protested, wheezing with pain, but determined to figure out what just happened.

Jack knew better than to try to out stubborn his partner and just helped him up, looking around to assess where the shot might have come from. "That son of a bitch," Jack hissed as he took in the smoldering hole in the drywall directly behind where Mac had been working. If Mac hadn't made Jack back off the bullet would have hit Jack about mid-thigh. As it was, it hit Mac in the shoulder blade near the middle of his back and embedded in his bullet-proof vest.

"Yeah," Mac said breathlessly. "That about covers it."

The timer was ticking down at a disturbingly accelerated speed.

"Well, shit," was all Jack could come up with.

"Mmmhmm," Mac replied, digging through the wires again to try to find the right one. "Yes!" he said triumphantly.

"Whoa, whoa there, Mac, buddy. What if that wire just triggers another bullet?" Jack stepped between Mac and the hole in the wall.

"Then, we'll pick another slug out of this vest," Mac replied with annoyance.

"Or outta me. You know … Whatever," Jack said casually.

"That's stupid, Jack," he said, but was preparing to cut the wire anyway. If Jack wanted to try to play human tac gear, Mac couldn't stop him. What he could stop was this series of explosives from detonating. "Three, two … one."

Snip.

The timer went dark.

"Whooohooo!" Jack crowed.

"Agreed," Mac said, sitting down hard on the floor and starting to try to extract himself from his vest.

Jack called in the team assigned to the room Mac had disarmed and squatted down next to his partner, helping him out of the vest, since the arm that belonged to that shoulder blade wasn't cooperating at the moment.

"You okay, bud?" Jack asked.

Mac gave him a wan smile. "You are so much better at not freaking out than you used to be."

"Yeah, well, you've put me through a helluva lot of practice these last couple of years, Mac."

"What have we got?" Steve asked as he came into the room, field kit in hand.

"The need for a fresh vest," Mac answered, starting to climb to his feet.

Steve stood in front of him, one eyebrow arched high. "Are we really falling back on old habits today? Because I'll rat you out to your fiancé right now." He was smiling when he said it, but he was clearly not impressed.

Mac shook his head. "We've still got four rooms. And I'm the one to clear them. This'll keep," he said, trying to shrug the bruised shoulder and not quite getting there. "I'm not bleeding."

"Externally," Steve agreed, the other eyebrow joining the first.

"Good enough for me," Mac said, forcing a grin. "And a big improvement over a lot of missions."

Steve smiled and shook his head. "Fair enough. But, any shortness of breath, coughing …"

"I'll let you know," Mac said with a nod, then he canted his head at the next door to let Jack know he was ready to move on.

"Keep an eye on him. He's got that look."

Jack just nodded and followed his partner through the doorway after they were sure that wasn't where the next trap was set.


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as she got to Phoenix, Mel headed to Mac's office. She passed the War Room and saw Jack and Matty having what looked like a pretty heated discussion. She grinned. Mac had texted her, grumbling a little about the protective fits his very minor field mishap had his partner in.

And by the way, could she pick him up? Because Jack was absolutely positive he shouldn't drive himself home and was making a super big deal out of it. Jack was more than happy to give him a lift, but Mac confessed that he didn't think he could stand the mission rehash extending to his commute as well. He'd added that it was less a mission rehash and more a lecture on the dangers of being MacGyver which he was very well acquainted with already thank you very much.

She'd replied that of course she'd pick him up, she was just sitting around watching tv anyway. She also said (with an appropriately winking emoji) to remember Jack was hovering for both of them, so he should just pretend that she was there already instead. She knew he wasn't hurt badly when he texted back his reply. She'd been laughing about it to herself for a couple of hours. " _But he's not nearly as good a kisser._ "

She found his office empty and checked her phone. The last text she'd received was still the one she'd last seen in the display window, just saying that they were back at Phoenix and Steve was being a pain in the ass, but he'd probably be doing his mission summary in his office by the time she made her way there through LA rush hour traffic.

She went back toward the War Room with a more purposeful step, tapping her knuckles on the door frame, but not waiting to be given the go ahead before striding in. "Hey guys how was the mission have you seen Mac he's not in his office" she said all in one breath.

Jack took the couple of necessary steps to get across the room and pull her into a quick hug. "He's still downstairs with Steve, far as I know, but he's fine, honey."

"If he's fine, then why's he still downstairs?" she frowned up at him; knowing on the one hand, Jack would never lie to her, but on the other being worried at not finding Mac where he'd said he would be.

Jack laughed softly. "Well, Doc was making him wait around for imaging to make sure there's no breaks or bleeds to come back. But he was pretty sure our boy was alright. Mac told you what happened, right?"

Mel disengaged from the hug and checked her phone again, with no more satisfying results than the last time. She sighed. "That he's good at disarming bombs, but bad at getting out of the way of bullets? Yeah. At least he wears a vest with some level of consistency now."

Jack nodded with another grin. "At least there's that. He's probably been too busy to text either of us, because you and I both know, odds are good he's busted something and he's arguing about what to do about it. Mac's come a long way, but stubborn is stubborn."

Mel managed a slight wry smile at that. "Says the guy who taught it to him."

Matty got up from her seat and joined them then. "Something I should know about Blondie?"

Mel shook her head. "Probably not. I'm going to head down and rescue Steve from being argued into more grey hair than Jack and hopefully take a guy home."

Matty smiled. "I'll send Dalton along in a few. That way if you need backup getting stubborn geniuses to do what their told, you've got some muscle."

Mel headed downstairs giving herself a solid lecture on her moment of almost total overreaction at not finding Mac in his office. She realized it was because of their relationship before their _relationship_ , so to speak. The Mac she'd first met wouldn't have admitted to needing help if he had a spear visibly running him through, she was pretty sure. She was still getting used to the more open and honest version of the man she'd fallen for.

Expecting internal hemorrhaging when he admitted he thought he'd probably broken something was just her preprogrammed default based on when she'd only known him in a professional capacity and her job and been to keep him from dying from the bad case of the stupids he often seemed to catch if he was hurt. Of course now she knew why, and felt bad about calling his response 'the stupids', even if she still thought that's what they were, if only because it now made perfect sense to her.

When she approached the desk, Steve was standing there, looking at a tablet with a frown. He saw her approaching out of the corner of his eye and looked up. He smiled and she immediately relaxed. They'd known each other long enough that preliminaries and greetings were unnecessary. "Is he alright?"

Steve's smile broadened. "He's in Three," he replied, tipping his chin in the direction of one of the nearby exam rooms off the main med bay.

"Okay," she answered. "But is he alright? Really alright?" she repeated her voice perfectly level, but her brows starting to draw together.

"Go see for yourself," he said, but came around the desk to follow her.

When she pushed the door open, she had to stifle a laugh. The sound caused the man stretched out on the gurney with an arm thrown over his face to mumble slightly and turn over, groaning a little as he did so. Mel glanced over her shoulder at Steve and whispered through her smile, "What did you give him?"

Steve shook his head with a grin, "A long lecture about pushing past the point of endurance to finish the mission?" Mel gave him a questioning frown. He continued. "I hadn't gotten back to tell him he has a number of fractures and some bruising."

"How extensive?" she asked, as much out of professional habit as her own need to know.

"Nothing too serious, I think," he paused again when the lack of certainty raised her eyebrow. "Lungs sound clear. I didn't think it was worth putting him through an MRI. He seems comfortable enough."

She smiled again, nodding, when Mac mumbled in his sleep. "So, he just passed out in here?"

"Davis was tied up evaluating scans from a team coming in with compression injuries. I was feeling pretty good about the x-rays and exam, but I'm not a radiologist, so getting results was taking forever." Steve shrugged. "Maybe he just got bored."

"Usually," was mumbled sleepily. One of Mac's eyes cracked open and his lips slipped into a grin. "Hey guys. How long have you been impersonating Jack and creepily watching me sleep, speculating on how bad I'm hurt?"

Steve laughed. "Don't have to speculate. I've counted the cracks."

"So, there's cracks?" he asked, grimacing as he pushed himself to sitting.

"A few," Steve confirmed. "And you're bruised all to hell, but considering how close the weapon was, it could have been a lot worse. Although I imagine you're in a fair amount of discomfort."

"Feels not awesome," Mac admitted. "Bet it looks nasty, too."

Mel was next to him a second later, pulling up the back of his shirt. "Let's see."

"Jeez! Handsy!" he complained with a laugh that made him wince a little.

"Oh, Mac … It's … Yeah, let's just leave it at nasty," she said squinting at the bruises like she didn't really want to look.

Mac shrugged that shoulder to reclaim his shirttail and slid his arm around Mel. "It's not that bad. Glad is was in the position I was in, or … Hey, you know what? I'm gonna go with 'it's not that bad'." He glanced at Steve. "Right?"

Steve nodded and shrugged at the same time. "With you, it's usually judged by comparison. So this is basically a skinned knee on the Mac Pain Scale. I'll print your discharge instructions and duty restrictions for you before I send them to Matty."

"Restrictions?" he asked, voice edging dangerously close to irritation. Mel bumped into his side playfully, gently. "You heard the cracked part right?"

He sighed. "Yeah. How restricted?"

Steve shook his head. "You'll probably still be speaking to me after you read it," he said with a smile to soften the blow, "But maybe only barely."

Mac stayed silent for a minute, contemplating Steve's expression. "How much of this is actually your professional medical opinion, and how much of it is Jack and Matty both flipping out over the fact that we never saw that trap coming?"

"I don't make recommendations based on how scary or annoying your partner or boss think they are," Steve smirked. "I do make them based on severity of injury, levels of pain …"

"It's not bad and you said it wasn't that severe, so …"

"I was going to add patient history. Same shoulder you screwed up out in Lost Coast, Mac. Back instead of front, but you and I both know that …"

"Okay," Mac held up his hands. Restrictions accepted before you two glare me to death." He frowned for a minute. "Off duty or will you still let me work while it heals up?"

"You can work, but I'm going to suggest you try to avoid missions that are bound to get physical. And it might be good if you stayed local for a few days at least, just to be sure no small internal bleeds crop up."

Mac shrugged with his good side. "I guess that's not too bad."

Mel smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his temple. He'd always been brilliant, capable, inventive, and so goddamned cute it sort of hurt her head, but that last couple years had seen him get smarter about how he went about things, smarter about how he treated himself. She supposed she had his dad to thank for it. It was a hell of a way for a parent to pass on an important lesson to their kid, and it came a couple decades to late to spare Mac a lot of the pain his undervaluing of himself and excessive compartmentalization had cost him, but better late than never, she thought.

Then he added, "How many days?"

Mel resisted the urge to elbow him. "However many he says, Angus MacGyver." Mac laughed and she raised her eyebrows in response. "Or you could hang around for a couple more hours and he could order an MRI now to be sure."

"I was just asking!" he said, still laughing. "How about if I just nod my head and agree to whatever, you take me home and you lay on the couch with me and we watch a movie?" he asked, keeping his tone light. He could tell she was still mulling over what could have happened today, but he didn't think she was overly upset or dwelling on it and he wanted to keep it that way.

Mel wrinkled her nose. "Only if you promise to take a shower."

Steve opened the door to step out and get the promised information and kick Mac out of Phoenix for the rest of the day, and maybe tomorrow if he could slip that past his friend with no arguments. He shook his head when he heard Mac tease, "He said I could bleed internally. Maybe I shouldn't shower unsupervised."

Mel didn't respond out loud but when they heard Mac's next words through the crack in the door Steve and a passing nurse shared momentary laughter.

"I could ask him where we stand on strenuous activity."

0-0-0

Mac came back inside from starting the fire and immediately caught the guilty looks from Mel and the rest of the team. "You guys are watching every move I make. And you think I don't notice, but for those of you in the cheap seats, shout out to the fact that I. Am. A. Spy."

He laughed a little at their chagrined expressions.

"You're not even denying it. So what gives?"

Mel moved toward him from the kitchen to pass him a beer and sit down on the arm of the couch. "Don't take this the wrong way, Mac …"

"But comma," he said, his grin widening just a little.

She smiled back, but also looked like she was worried about his reaction. "We're just wondering if you're really good with … this."

"Dinner?" he asked, finally raising an eyebrow.

He'd thought she'd say something about worrying he was more hurt than he was letting on. And he really wasn't. He was a little annoyed with Matty for making this more than medical, for putting him off because she wanted to evaluate the scene more closely and have their profiler look at the traps. But he also understood. That booby trap had shaken him up, too.

"No. Don't do that. You know what I mean and being cute isn't going to change the question," she frowned. "With still being home and everything."

Mac shrugged, settling onto the couch nearest Bozer, who was over for a rare evening visit while Beth went out and had girls' night. Mel usually went along, but she'd been hovering almost as much as Jack. And he couldn't quite figure out why.

"I mean, I'm not thrilled and I'm starting to get a little bored but …"

"How bad are you really hurting, Mac?" Bozer asked bluntly, turning to face his friend. "Don't try to pretend you're fine. We all know it's gotta be worse than you'll say because you aren't driving Matty crazy. I've been worried sick since Mel told me you just took a nap at Medical like you were having a nice day off at home. So, spill. How bad?"

Mac dropped his head a little, closing his eyes, but with a find smile growing on his lips. When he looked back up again, there was an apology on his face along with the smile.

"I'm really fine. Sore, for sure. A little rattled; no point in pretending I'm not since that bullet was inches from my head and that it could happen never occurred to me in that situation. But it's … I'm actually good. I just don't see a reason to push."

Jack had been watching him quietly, leaning back in his seat. "You've always pushed though, Mac. You can see why everybody's a little concerned, right?"

Mac shook his head with a little smirk. "You're always concerned. Like it's literally your worst habit."

Jack just smiled and nodded, putting down his beer. "Probably. Any guesses as to what any one of us might suggest is your worst habit?"

Mac thought about joking, but just gave everyone an open smile. "I don't have to guess. I already know. Compartmentalizing. Shutting myself off to help. Thinking I can solve things all on my own. Pretending I'm fine when I'm not ... How am I doin' here, guys?"

Jack snorted a laugh and exchanged a look with Bozer. "Well, you're also known for a show of honesty as a form of misdirection so …" Jack opened his hands.

Mac laughed this time, any slight sheepishness, dissolved. "Hey, I'm allowed to grow as a person! Besides, you guys might have missed the fact that I live with somebody it would be literally impossible to hide an injury from."

Then he noticed that of all the faces in the room, Mel's was probably the most concerned.

He put down his beer and turned toward her, putting one hand on her leg. "You spent the whole afternoon in the pool with me." He dropped his voice, "Not to mention the shower." He raised his volume back to a more conversational level. "She'd have noticed if I was really off. Right?" he asked, holding her eyes for a long moment.

She smiled a little. "I like to think so." She looked at Jack and Bozer in turn. "He's starting to make me think you guys have been trying to wind me up just to drive him crazy," she smirked.

"Yeah, he's good at that, too," Steve piped up from across the room where he and Riley were engaged in a highly competitive round of 3-D chess.

"Hey!" Mac said with mostly teasing indignation. "See if I ever just do what you say again."

Steve snorted. "This is basically the first time. So I'm not used to it enough that I'll miss it."

Mac just laughed. That was both fair and unfair and the paradox was enough to crack him up at least a little. "I could take another assignment, but since we are absolutely a no go on all things Murdoc, it's not a big yank for me. Hanging around with you guys for a couple of days, working on the house, beats the hell out of some boring surveillance or recon gig. And that's all Matty's likely to authorize."

"Yeah," Jack finally agreed. "I can't do another eighteen-hour surveillance, man. I'm getting' too old for that stuff."

"Last time out you ruined more paperclips than me," Mac snickered. "I told Matty I'm perfectly happy for a couple of days off and that unless she's got something more entertaining than watching an exist for a guy with a suspicious briefcase that we aren't even allowed to chase, not to tap us in."

Jack chuckled and got up to get another beer. "I like this whole you growing as a person thing. Been tryin' to get you to be a little mission selective for almost a decade now."

"Well, you finally won," Mac smiled. "And I'm sure Matty will …" He paused as his phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. "Speak of the devil," he said with an eyebrow raise.

He hit the Accept button and speaker. "Hey, Matty. I put you on speaker. I'm with the whole crew right now if you need us. What's up?"

"I have an assignment for you, before, and I'm quoting Bozer here, 'Mac destroys the Hollywood hills trying to build a better robot vacuum'."

"That's actually a valid concern," Riley grinned, getting her rig out of her bag because she had a feeling Matty was about to disrupt their evening off, with at least a little prep work.

"Ha. Ha." Mac didn't look or sound particularly amused. The vacuum cleaner robot had improved efficiency at least 30% since he'd been given a couple of mandatory days off. "As long as it's not sitting in a van with Jack for the better part of two days again, I'm in. What have you got?"

"Are you familiar with the celebrity chef Lance Casteau?"

Mel was the first to answer, with a snap. "You mean that douchey guy who constantly goes on tv to talk about how chefs who go on tv are sell out jerks?"

Mac laughed, feeling the need to explain Mel's vehement reaction in addition to answering Matty. "As you may have guessed, since Melody hates the sight of him, I'm also familiar with him. You probably already know her brother Alan is a chef on local cable in Manhattan, right?"

Mel looked a little embarrassed for her reaction for a split second. "Even if it weren't for Alan … That Casteau guy is an ass."

Matty's raised eyebrow looked especially pronounced in the cropped view offered by the video call. "I'm inclined to agree with you Ms. Sullivan. There've been rumors of Casteau being involved with all kinds of shady deals for years. Everything from illegal bushmeat for the rich and bored to supplying cocaine to every restaurant with a staff half inclined toward the habit, to possibly being involved in prostitution and human smuggling out of at least five restaurants he's opened all over the U.S."

"What's he into now?" Jack asked. "Because it sounds like you've already covered all the 'let the Feds bust this guy's head' bases."

"No one has ever been able to get any evidence on him, not that would hold up. Now … We believe he may have taken a contract to assassinate the new ambassador from North Korea, the first man to hold this post and be accepted for a state visit. Any harm coming to him would be disastrous for our relations with North Korea, obviously."

"So what's the mission? Do we know when and where the hit is going to take place?" Mac asked, his game face already slipping into place.

"And we do remember that Mac's on slightly restricted duty, right Matty?" Bozer added.

Matty gave Bozer a glare. "Yes, I do know the medical status of my best agent, Wilt."

Mac grinned at the words 'best agent'. He couldn't help feel it was a point of pride that she felt that way, given their relationship when they'd met.

"This shouldn't be too taxing, since if there's any heavy lifting, Jack will be along for the ride."

"What are we gonna be up to Matilda?"

"Casteau has been given the contract to cater the state dinner between our very own Secretary of Defense and Ambassador Khal Rhei."

"Are we going in as waitstaff again, because you know how much I hate wearin' those monkey suits …"

"Calm down, Dalton," Matty interrupted. "We're going to try to get much closer to Casteau than you two delivering drinks." Everyone waited after the death stare she'd given Jack for interrupting. "Casteau is running a little televised contest, right here in his home base of Los Angeles, for an up and coming chef to come to the Capitol and act as his sous chef for this very important event."

"He needs a patsy," Mac guessed.

She smiled approvingly. "That's what we believe, yes."

"Well, the team does have it's very own chef quality cook," Mac grinned at Bozer, thinking that it had been a while since Boze had gotten out of the lab and this sounded like a perfect chance to have a little fun with minimal danger to the newlywed.

"Unfortunately, I'm going to need Bozer at Phoenix to keep an eye on Casteau's every move. We may get some clue as to how he plans to assassinate the ambassador based on how he sets up this challenge and how he executes each stage of it. That means, the lucky guy going in as haughty but eager to prove himself recent Cordon Bleu graduate Tyler Masterson is none other than our very own Angus MacGyver."

Mac's eyes went a little wide. "I can't pretend to be a chef!"

Mel slid an arm around his shoulders. "You're a great cook, Mac. And I am the sister of a chef from one of the toughest cities in the world to make it as one, so I feel like I would know."

"Yeah, sure, I can cook. Mac and cheese and chicken fingers and comfort food garbage that doesn't have to be pretty! How many times do I have to tell you guys I'm a function over form guy in just about everything that I do."

"It's not like I'm sending you in cold Mac," Matty chastised. "You'll have Bozer as a live consult with video access to everything you see and no chef goes into a career making competition like this without some staff. Riley will be Devon Lane, your personal assistant and social media maven so she has a good reason to film and photograph everything. And Jack … You keeps telling me what a hot shot he is in the kitchen, by the way, although Sarah says he's not even particularly adept at heating up bottles, will be Masterson's sous chef, Randy. Who will of course be there to both watch your six and keep you from burning the place down."

Mac shook his head with a little smirk. "Alright, when are we going in?"

"Tomorrow at noon is the arrival for the contestants. Be at Phoenix at eight for the briefing. But for now, finish your damned beer."

"Will do, Matty." Mac held up his bottle in salute. "Cheers."

He ended the call.

"Well, I'm gonna lean on you really heavy for this one, Boze," Mac said, hoping to take the slightly crestfallen expression of his friend's face. Bozer would have loved a chance to throw down with a real tv chef.

"You bet, Mac. I've always got your back, man. I mean, I'm not good at the guns ablazing stuff we keep Jack around for, but you will make meals that will knock that chef's socks off."

Mac laughed. "Well, I care more about not getting made than I do about impressing this sleaze. But this one sounds like it might be a little bit fun and like maybe we can do some real good without things getting too crazy."

There was some general agreement, and everyone started to go back to whatever they were doing when Matty called, except for Riley who was now on her laptop looking up celebrity chefs' social media so she could be well prepared to play the role of someone who knew what she was doing in that regard.

Mel slid down off the arm of the couch and into Mac's lap. They were having a quiet talk in the midst of the chatter and music around the room about how he was really feeling, and her apologizing for having doubts about his honesty in that regard. They were very seriously considering another swim when Mac noticed Jack sitting quietly, frowning.

"What's the matter, Big Guy?" Mac asked. "Spidey senses tingling about this one?"

"Huh?" Jack glanced up. "No, no, nothin' like that … Just … I thought Matty and I had finally made our peace, you know? Now this. This is incontrovertible evidence she's still pissed about Chechnya."

"You're losing me Jack. What makes you think she's mad at you this time?"

Mel added, "Yeah Jack, this seems like an ideal way to get you guys back out in the field. And she's letting you go in right on Mac's elbow. Just the way you like it, Papa Bear. I was thinking she was maybe rewarding both of your good behavior."

"It's the names, man, the names. What's in a name? I'll tell old Shakespeare exactly what. You can always tell when Matty's pissed because the cover identities tell the tale."

Steve offered, "I don't think it's personal Jack. Backstopped cover identities don't exactly grown on trees."

"Yeah, but, Sous Chef Randy? What the hell is up with that?"

Riley snickered. "That's not bad at all Jack. Remember that Ernie character she made you be that one time when …"

"We don't speak of that mission please and thank you. Cairo was bad, but no man should have to live and die as a screw up named Ernie Bung."

"That was pretty bad," Mac agreed. "Maybe I should have realized she likes me sooner. My IDs are always great."

"Ernie Bung," Jack muttered to himself, then he looked up with a slight smile. "Yeah, I guess Chef Randy doesn't sound so bad."

"Sous Chef," Bozer reminded him with a wide smirk at the idea of Jack having to defer to Mac in the kitchen with snappy but humble replies of "Yes, Chef."

Jack got up. "That's it, Boze. Your girl's not here to protect you. You're goin' in the pool."

Bozer yelped and got up, taking off at a run.

Chaos ensued as everyone in the room picked a party to root for in that particular chase.

Mac grinned.

Life was pretty good.


	7. Chapter 7

Mac tugged at the sleeves of the overly fitted white chef's jacket he'd just finished buttoning up while swearing under his breath. "This is too tight. And the short sleeves look ridiculous."

Matty responded over the comms. "Be that as it may, Blondie, our Chef Casteau has an eye for the young and well-built. We want him to notice you today, to want to talk to you outside the kitchen, Capiche?"

Mac had only been about half paying attention to that part of the briefing. He'd been busy thinking that he sort of missed the whole team working together, and even now, this assignment was just him, Jack, and Riley. In a way, it felt like the good old days, but in a lot of others it felt like what had become their team was off doing much more important work while they … well, had become window dressing. He suddenly realized he was getting lost in his thoughts again and hadn't answered Matty.

"Umm … Yeah, I guess." He paused. "You do remember that the last time you used me as eye candy, Jack spent almost a week in and out of Medical and I was out of commission for the field for over a month, right?"

"Casteau's not violent unless it's for money. Between your cooking, with Bozer's capable assistance, and those baby blues, Casteau will be eating out of the palm of your hand by the end of taping today."

"Great," Mac mumbled under his breath, though he knew Matty caught it. "This is not funny, Jack," he grumbled at his partner.

"It's a little funny," Jack replied.

"No, it really isn't," Mac said, glaring at him.

"Well, maybe it wasn't, but I just texted Melody a picture of you in that get up and she said to tell you she's now madly jealous of Casteau. So … yeah … hilarious."

Mac grumbled under his breath again, not caring how much of it Matty picked up on comms. He looked out over the studio from their small semi-private corner of it. Open kitchen with five stations, uniformed assistants running around with covered baskets of ingredients. There was an open overhead door and all sorts of power tools, too. It looked as though the set was still under construction.

A harried PA with thick glasses, short spiky pink hair, and an expression that said she was pretty sure she was one screw up away from the guillotine that was definitely kept in the boss's office, hurried over. "Chef Masterson, they want you in make-up."

"Be right there," Mac answered, managing to look pleased things were moving along toward filming.

"You, too, Mr. … Randy," she finished after looking at her notes and being able to make nothing of the impossibly convoluted Greek name Matty had attached to Jack's cover.

"Fine, thank you, we'll be right along, Miss," Jack replied pleasantly. As soon as she walked away though, Jack gave Riley and Mac both the look. "I swear to you, Matty still has it out for me after all this time. And I thought things were finally better!"

Mac laughed a little ruefully. "Hey, no complaining about the name old man. You're not the one she's dangling in front of Chef Killer Ego (or is that just Killer?) like a mouse in front of a hungry cat."

"Yeah, well, if I was, this mission would already be in the bag," he huffed and stomped off toward to area that the PA had waved at.

Riley was containing a pretty serious case of the giggles admirably. She lost a little bit of containment when she saw the look Mac was giving her. "You can't tell me this isn't a little funny."

He grinned. "Yeah I guess it is. I'm still worried I'm not going to be able to pull this off." He shrugged and started to follow Jack.

Riley got out her rig. "I'm going to see if I can find out what's up for this challenge and maybe give you a little competitive advantage."

She flashed him a grin.

"What're you so happy about this morning?" he asked. He'd been noticing her more cheerful than average demeanor since their briefing and now that they were on set, getting ready to participate in this chef's challenge she was positively beaming.

She shrugged. "I dunno. Just, it's just the three of us, and we have no idea what the hell we're doing, and … It's kinda like the old days. I've sorta missed this."

He nodded, thoughtful, struck by how similarly their thinking was about this mission. Weirdly, Riley being able to look at this as fun, as a nod to their pasts, helped Mac get his head the rest of the way in the game. "Yeah," he said with another nod, this one less hesitant. "Me, too."

0-0-0

Riley had gotten no where getting into Chef Casteau's production files, although the male PA who'd wandered over to find out who she was (and flirt shamelessly) had let slip that the show was going to be Cupcake Wars meets Iron Chef. She had no idea what that meant, but Jack did.

"Dude," he'd enthused. "If that's what it is, you've got this in the bag, Mac!"

"How? I don't know what any of that means."

"On Cupcake Wars the team has to design a display for their stuff and the best one always wins even if their cupcakes suck. Especially ones with fire or light shows or lots of moving parts. You're awesome at design and engineering."

Mac and Riley had exchanged a look and a snicker. Jack demanded to know what was so funny. Mac answered with a grin. "Spend a lot of time watching baking shows these days, do you."

Jack shook his head. "Laugh it up, Braniac, but Freddie loves it. Puts her to sleep every time. Of course it also usually results in me having to make cupcakes at eleven o'clock at night for Sarah. You'd be amazed how many cupcakes one tiny little pregnant lady can eat."

Mac chuckled. Domestic Jack was his new favorite persona for his partner. He'd seen Jack pretend to be a lot of things over the years, and he'd seen jack genuinely take on a lot of new roles. Husband and father suited him to a T, Mac thought, but Kitchen Guy was definitely just a role. Jack was much more at home cleaning a weapon than washing dishes, and nothing was going to convince Mac otherwise.

"I've seen her attack take-out, so cupcakes aren't too much of a leap," Mac said, giving Jack a fond sort of smile. Then his eyes dropped to the article he was reading on molecular gastronomy. He was still extremely intimidated by the idea of pretending to be a chef. And Mel was right, he was a hell of a cook, but only when it came to comfort food. And as far as food pairings went, he knew which beer he liked with what kind of barbeque, but that was about it.

He'd managed to make himself pretty nervous by the time they got called to the set to begin taping. The other chefs were older than he was, clearly experienced, and looked cocky as hell. The only one that seemed even remotely close to his age or general level of nerves was the chef at the nearest station on his right. She was maybe thirty, petite, and looked exhausted, like preparing for this had her up all week. That made him feel vaguely better.

The lights came up and Chef Casteau stepped dramatically into the center of the large warehouse of a kitchen. "Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentleman. I hope you didn't show up here today just to show off your fine dining skills. I have plenty of those for all of us."

He paused, and the chefs and their assistants gave the expected appreciative laughter. Next to Mac, Jack whispered, "I already hate this guy." Mac snickered but tried to keep his face simply interested in what their mark had to say.

"As you know, the person who walks away with the prize today, will also follow me to our nation's capital to prepare a meal for a once in a life time collection of government elites, from here an abroad. That's a job that requires not just skill in the kitchen, but ingenuity, resilience, and a willingness to put your own ego aside for the greater experience of your diners."

Casteau looked at each of them in turn and when he locked eyes with Mac, Mac just answered the look with a small smile. Ingenuity, resilience, and a lack of ego were kind of the things he was most known for. He suddenly felt a lot more certain he could pull of not only connecting with Casteau, but probably winning this challenge.

"The guest of honor at the dinner you are competing to help me prepare is fascinated with American culture. Therefore, the dishes you'll be preparing today should reflect your own take on American cuisine. I'm looking for an array of ten appetizers that in some way represent the best America has to offer." He drew the covering off the main ingredient table and there was an array of meats, cheeses, and other assorted farm products that could dazzle any eye. But for all of that, they looked like simple, straightforward ingredients. Casteau went on, giving several of the chefs an almost malicious sneer. "And they will be presented on a display that you yourselves must build from whatever you find in the construction area or on set. This too, should reflect our intended guest's interest in American culture." There was some irritated mumbling from the other stations, especially the ones Casteau had looked at so derisively, but Jack saw Mac out and out grinning now. "Make it delicious. Make it impressive. And make me want you at my side. You have four hours and up three of my personal staff to help you. Good luck."

The large digital timer above his head flared to life with red light, already ticking down toward zero. Casteau walked off set and arranged himself off camera in a comfortable looking chair, picking up a newspaper, like he had absolutely no interest in what was going on, as the kitchen erupted in a flurry of activity.

Mac was already eyeing the construction area. "Jack," he said, immediately assuming an air of command. "I want all the pork, beef, and cheddar cheese you can put your hands on from that table. And whatever you like for sides when I cook at home, okay?"

"Alright, kid, what're you gonna …"

"What I have in mind has a lot of moving parts. I'm gonna go scoop up what I need before anyone else gets to it. They're too worried about the food to be thinking that far ahead. I'm also gonna go grab us the two assistants that Casteau was talking to before the show."

Jack nodded. He loved it when Mac got all mission focused and forgot to just be a regular guy for a minute. Some days he swore the kid didn't know half of how smart and capable he really was. It had been a while since he'd felt like Mac was totally in the game, and here he was, already on top of things. It was good to see. "Yes, Chef," Jack grinned and took off for the ingredients table.

"You need me for anything right now, Mac?" came over the comms.

"Nah, Boze, I think I got this, actually. Unless … Could you see if there's any interesting stuff going on in the bar scene that Casteau might be into or maybe even not familiar with. Cocktails seem like a good way to get this guy kindly disposed. His breath reeked of gin when we met."

"Yes, Chef," Bozer answered and Mac could hear his grin.

Mac took off at a jog to the construction area where the two assistants he wanted to nab where already standing and chatting, eyeing the chefs with speculative looks.

0-0-0

Several hectic, sweaty, stressful hours later, Mac was feeling even better about his chances. He opened the oven and was hit with a face full of steam that smelled like their best backyard barbeque. As he stood up, he flinched a little at how close Casteau was standing next to him, a little put off by how silently the master of ceremonies had joined him.

"You seem to be taking a much different approach than your contemporaries," he observed with a tight little smile.

"That's very much my approach to most things," Mac said matter-of-factly.

He dropped oven mitts onto the counter, and turned toward the refrigerator, taking out a pitcher and then reaching into the freezer for a chilled glass. He set both on the counter and went over to where he had some things under a side towel, along with a small tank of piqued nitrogen. He arranged a few things in a little basket and dipped them into the minus-more-than-three-hundred-degrees liquid. He dropped the freshly frosted items into the glass, added what appeared to be little brown gems from a tiny ice cube tray, and poured the perfectly clear liquid over the frozen bits. As the glass formed its own little layer of cloud on its surface, he handed the glass to Casteau.

"My version of the perfect martini," he said, before turning like the Chef wasn't even there and checking on the stuff he had chilling in an ice bath.

He could feel Casteau's eyes on him. Matty hadn't been wrong. The dude had hit on every guy in the competition so far and all of them had obsequiously reciprocated, regardless of whether or not they had any interest in the guy. Mac had never wanted a job badly enough to try that particular move. Of course, he had to admit, he was only just getting comfortable with actually flirting and he didn't think it counted when it was with your fiancé.

"This is brilliant," Casteau said, sounding genuinely impressed rather than just lecherous. "Tell me what you've done here."

Mac went about his business, mostly chopping garnishes at this point, and scanning the room to see where the hell Jack had gotten to. "I set up a small still to purify the well vodka the show provided. That stuff tasted like kerosene and was a hangover waiting to happen."

He glanced at Casteau and caught another speculative grin, this one was less about the man's clear interest in the young and attractive and more about curiosity about this young apparent chef's out of the box thinking.

"I assume nobody meant for that to be consumed as anything other than an additive in pie crust …"

"You used vodka in a pie crust? Tell me why."

"Chilled vodka produces a flakier crust than water, so yeah. Unlike water, ethanol doesn't contribute to the formation of gluten. Less gluten formation equals tender, flaky crust. Just some basic food science, Chef."

"Fair enough," the chef said, clearly pleased with Mac's answer. "But it was trashy vodka so you just built a still."

"A little one," Mac nodded. "And all that pretty debris in the bottom of your glass that looks like an underwater garden are mostly the things that turn vodka into gin. It's flash frozen juniper, coriander, citrus peel, cinnamon, almond and star anise. The little jewel-like ice cubes you see are laser-cut frozen vermouth."

"Why go to the trouble?" Casteau inquired. "Cocktails aren't part of the requirements of the challenge."

"I like to go above and beyond." Mac smirked. "Besides, I did a little research about the guests at this state dinner you publicized. The ambassador likes his drinks. I'm not missing out on being your second, Chef. This could make my whole career."

He knew from the expression on the chef's face that he was playing this exactly right. Just enough youthful earnestness, combined with a chef-worthy ego and a competitive nature. Say nothing of a little naivete. "Could change your life," Casteau said, and Mac didn't think the man was even cognizant of the slight warning in his own tone.

"That's what I hope, Chef." He paused looking around. Time to let a little arrogance out of the bag, or Casteau wouldn't continue to buy him as a chef capable of competing here with these older more experienced professionals, as freshly out of culinary school as his cover had him. He needed to seem like someone Casteau could use, but it wouldn't do to come off as too young or inexperienced either. "Randy! Goddamn it, where are you! These microgreens aren't going to sort themselves," he suddenly barked in Jack's general direction.

Jack came over on the hop. "Sorry, Chef, Just checkin' out the competition for ya."

"Just do what I assigned you to do and the competition will take care of itself," he snapped, with appropriate authority, sharing a glance with Casteau then that said, "You just can't get the staff."

"Very good." Casteau nodded, clearly meaning everything about this situation. "I'll look forward to how you bring it all together, Chef Masterson." Casteau walked away, taking the martini glass with him.

"What do you need?" Jack asked quietly as Casteau sauntered away.

"Mostly to get that guy off my elbow," Mac said with almost a sigh. "I'm pretty sure I've got him on the hook. He clearly likes what he sees." Jack snorted. "I meant what we're putting together foodwise, Jackass," Mac said, having to laugh himself. "But yeah, he's kindly disposed in general at the moment."

"See, Blondie," Matty said over the comms, sounding as smug as he'd ever heard her. "I told you."

"Yeah, well, he's a lot less handy than that Vivian woman you sicked on me last time, so I guess I should thank you, since all Casteau seems to want to do is look," he laughed. "I'm going to go see how our build is going. Can you set up the salad cups with the microgreens for the potato salad. I need the pancetta pulled out of the oven in about two minutes before the sugar burns, too."

Jack laughed then bit down on it at Mac's almost imperious glare. "Yes, Chef." As Mac walked toward the construction area, Jack chuckled again. "Nothing like getting into your cover."

Mac was actually thinking the same thing, as he walked away. It had been ages since they'd really gone out in the field, under cover. Even though this felt like a low-risk mission, part of Mac was having more fun than he'd had in ages. Another part was waiting for things to go south. He smirked to himself as he realized he almost hoped they would. He shook his head at himself for the thought. He had other plans, he reminded himself.

He checked over the display the build crew was now painting. He'd handled most of the moving parts himself and was reasonably pleased that his display had the look of a miniature county fair. The other displays were much more subdued and stately. Mac had the distinct impression that Casteau intended to pander to the ambassadors stereotyped notions of America. In fact, that's what he was counting on.

"Nice work, guys. Thanks," he offered to the build crew, who both looked at him like no one had ever been polite to them before.

"Y … you're welcome," one of them said, widening his eyes.

As he was half way to his station, he smelled smoke and the other young chef's voice piped over the din. "Shitshitshitshit. No, no, no!"

Against his better judgement, Mac stopped and jogged over to where he could see the smoke coming from. "Hey, what's wrong? Can I help?"

She was squatted down by the clearly overheating motor on her display, unplugging it. "I doubt it," she snapped. "And why would you want to?" she glared up at him.

"Um … because I'd rather the studio didn't burn down before I win this competition?" he said, letting it be a question.

She looked over at his display which was working perfectly, and at the builders who were shaking each other's hands and grinning like they'd designed the damned thing, when in fact she'd watched this too-pretty-to-not-be-a-tv-chef guy pull it together mostly from drills turned into drive trains, and odd bits of stuff other teams were throwing away.

"Yeah, that's probably fair," she huffed, climbing to her feet. "But since I'm between kitchens at the moment, I would like to not completely fall on my ass on television, and maybe still come away with a job, I guess I wouldn't turn down the help."

Mac pulled his Swiss Army knife out of the pocket of his baggy kitchen pants and bent down to get a better look at the motor. "I'm Tyler, by the way," he said, glancing at her again.

"Reese." It was said in such a short, clipped tone, Mac was pretty sure he needn't bother with more small talk.

"What are you doing, Blondie?" Matty asked in his ear. "Seriously, bro, no helping the competition," Bozer chimed in.

Mac almost shook his head. After a couple of minutes, Mac stood up. "All set. You fried some wires. Too much stress. You're gonna lose a couple of moving parts to it, so I've got it rigged so every other level of your display will turn. Reduces the load enough for it to keep working and at least looks sort of on purpose since it's in a pattern."

"Thanks," Reese said, sticking out a hand.

Mac shook it. "You're welcome. Good luck, Chef."

"You too," she called as he walked away.

Jack shook his head at him as Mac rejoined him in their cooking area. "What?" Mac asked a little defensively.

"Well, I was gonna tell you that it's real dumb to fix the sabotage your partner so very carefully worked out against your next closest competition."

Mac's mouth dropped open a little. "Jack, we don't need to cheat."

"I'm still having a hard time buying that you got kicked out of Boy Scouts, Blondie," Matty added with a laugh.

"Very funny," he grumbled. "Jack?" Mac invited his partner to go on.

"But, I won't yell atcha, because Ri overheard Casteau when he walked by her with that cute little assistant of his."

"Oh yeah? What'd he say?"

"That anybody who'd help the competition someplace like this is the perfect patsy."

Mac flushed a little. He'd definitely helped as a moment of just being himself in the midst of his cover. "Well, alright then," he said. "Clearly my diabolical plot to not be an asshole is working perfectly."

When Casteau announced him as the winner twenty minutes later, he and Jack shared a look and almost started in with a bout of nervous laughter. Instead he turned and gave the camera a cocky smile as Casteau said, "Pack your bags, Chef. You are joining me in Washington."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N - Hey guys, I know it's been a minute since I updated this, so to anyone still reading, thanks for hanging in there. I've had a lot going on. But I promise I will wrap this up at some point and I'll try to get back to updating. I'm almost done with the sequel of my novel so that should free up some time, if the rest of my life calms down for a minute. In the meantime, I hope this satisfies. ~ J_

Jack peeled his eyes open again. He knew he'd had a nap, but a glance at his phone told him it had been relatively short. Still, he'd been hoping Mac would be back by now.

The door opened, but instead of Mac, Melody's current second in command, Brian, walked into the small single patient room Jack was currently occupying at Phoenix medical. "Hey, you're awake! Good. How you feeling?" Brian asked pleasantly.

Jack shook his head. "Like I should have listened to Mac and not sampled anything at that dinner."

Brian was already busy getting Jack's vital signs, but offered, "I know it probably doesn't make you feel any better, but if you hadn't grabbed what you did in the kitchen, and you hadn't dropped when you did, the ambassador probably would have eaten a whole plateful and been alone in his room when the poison hit him."

Jack actually grinned. "So ignoring Mac saved a man's life. Hadn't thought of it that way, but I'm definitely going to remember to give him some crap about it." He paused. "You see him around out there anywhere?"

Brian shook his head. "I'm sure he's still around though. Doc Foster is talking to himself at his desk and just broke a pen in half when I came in here. Only one agent at Phoenix gets him that irritated."

"You sure it's not two?" Jack asked with a smirk.

"Positive. You just scare him. Mac makes him furious." Brian grinned. "I just think the good doctor doesn't like people who are smarter than he is, personally but maybe that's just me."

Brian was on his way out, after assuring Jack that if his most recent blood panel looked good, he'd probably be home for dinner, when Mac finally came back in, holding an ice pack on his hand. "How you holding up, pal?" he asked, sitting down on the wheeled stool with the big STAFF ONLY printed on the seat.

Jack shrugged. "Okay for a guy who sampled whatever the hell that was the chefsassin put in his mac and cheese bites. Brian said they'll probably turn me loose pretty soon. So whatever it was you whipped up on the spot almost definitely saved my ass."

Mac grinned, shifting the ice pack carefully to the sorest spot on his hand. He could explain the chemistry, but decided that would be too mean, under the circumstances. Instead he just shrugged his signature self deprecating shrug and said, "I'm glad that kitchen was well stocked and those Secret Service people were on the ball."

"For a guy who wants to retire from the biz, you are still seriously dedicated to deepening this whole Wookie life debt, kid."

"You getting poisoned wasn't exactly part of the plan," Mac said, only half joking. It had kind of saved their asses, since they hadn't been able to catch Casteau out doing anything untoward.

Mac had shifted uncomfortably at the mention of their retirement. He didn't realize it, but Jack did. Jack also noticed how smoothly Mac changed the subject, as sitting still became too much for him and he predictably started half spinning his unauthorized seat. "Poison always seems like such an over dramatic way to kill somebody to me. Like something in a fantasy novel. You ever read _The Eyes of the Dragon_?"

"Nah, I'm more of a Ernest Hemingway, Jack London sort of guy when I read fiction, kid. Probably still skip it if there's poison involved."

The went back and forth about various fantasy and action tropes and concluded that their lives had a lot of them and they couldn't decide if that was funny or sad. Something was clearly eating Mac though because as they talked he got more, rather than less fidgety, eventually spinning the stool around in circles.

"If one of the the scrubs squad walks in and you're doing that, you're gonna get yelled at, even if it's your Almost Missus," Jack observed.

"Yeah," he sighed, but didn't offer up what was on his mind.

That was right around when Brian came back in. "Nice, Mac," he smirked. "You already look younger than everybody here even though you're not. Now I kind of wish we had video surveillance in these rooms."

"I've been waiting forever. And I'm bored. I haven't lit anything on fire or blown anything up. Count your blessings," he returned with a grin.

Brian just shook his head, then he turned his attention to his other patient. "Looks to me like you'll be getting out of here shortly, Jack. I don't have an orders yet, but I figured I'd give you a heads up so you're marginally less grumpy than the doc when he gets to you."

"Thanks, man," Jack said with a grin

After a minute he stood. "Hey, I'm gonna go see if the radiologist has looked at my X-rays yet. If she hasn't, I might go find Mel and sic her on her. If they cut you loose from getting poisoned before me when all I did is beat down a couple bad guys, I'm gonna be pissed."

Jack just laughed. "You showed up to begin with; even Melody should be proud."

Mac rolled his eyes in good natured amusement as he headed back out the door.

When they met in the hallway a short while later, Jack still looked a little off kilter, but certainly not like someone a rogue chef almost accidentally poisoned. Mac was pleased enough to be walking away with just an ace bandage for bruising rather than a break.

"How long you out for," Jack asked.

Mac smiled, rather pleased. "Not off the roster at all. You?

"Nope. I'm all good."

Mac's phone chimed just then to summon him to the War Room. Then Jack's did the same. "Kinda nice bein' a hot commodity again, huh?"

Mac nodded, suddenly looking a little uncertain. "It is, yeah."

Their enjoyment of being back in the thick of it was cut short just as they were wrapping up a mission to infiltrate a local ring of fraudulent antiquities.

They were at the laughing and clapping each other on the back stage of things when Riley called out to them from the van. They jogged over at the urgency in her voice. She was holding her iPad up for them, her eyes pinched and watering. Matty looked back at them from her end of the video call back at Phoenix.

"I need you guys to come in ASAP."

"We need to wrap up the scene," Mac asserted.

"I'll send in another unassociated team. I have some bad news I'd rather deliver in person," she said, her voice thin.

"Matty, what's going on?" Mac asked sharply. He didn't do secrets from the boss well after everything that happened with Thornton.

"Things went bad in Caracas. We've lost a member of your team."

Jack headed for the driver's seat without a word and Mac got in the back with Riley to continue the conversation with Matty while they were on the move.

After a few minutes, the van got very quiet.

0-0-0

The music stopped, and Mac drained his drink, then set it down, staring into the glass like he expected some answer to be there. He hated funerals, hated wakes, and he really hated the strained get together when all that was over. He never knew what to do or say. And today he was feeling especially laconic.

A single voice, clear and strong, was raised, perfectly picked up by the mic on the stage, but not loud. Not at all.

 _Of all the money that e'er I spent  
I've spent it in good company  
And all the harm that ever I did  
Alas it was to none but me  
And all I've done for want of wit  
To memory now I can't recall  
So, fill to me the parting glass  
Good night and joy be with you all _

His eyes were glazed, whether with tears or the creeping emptiness he'd been lost to since they'd gotten the call about Milton, she wasn't sure. She just knew she had to try to help. Helping was what she did. It was who she was. And she thought by now maybe they'd both made peace with that. Problem was, Mac hadn't yet made peace with the fact that it's who he was, too.

"Mac," she said softly.

He didn't raise his eyes from where they'd focused on the light playing on the ice in his otherwise empty glass. This time he did at least make an answering, inquisitive noise.

"Mmmm?"

"This wasn't your fault."

"I know." It had the color of a preprogrammed response. Like he'd said it so many times, the words no longer had meaning.

Her first impulse was to get up and go park herself right on his lap so he had to look at her, listen to her, feel something for Christ's sake, but she didn't. With any other guy that would probably be the exact right thing to do. But not with Mac.

Her frustration with not knowing the way forward crept into her voice just a little. "You weren't even there."

He lifted his eyes this time. "No. I wasn't."

Oh, so that's what this was. Still, she restrained herself from reaching out to him. "And you wish you had been?"

He was quiet, listening to the achingly sweet soft song.

 _Of all the comrades that e'er I had  
They are sorry for my going away  
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had  
They would wish me one more day to stay  
But since it falls unto my lot  
That I should rise and you should not  
I'll gently rise and I'll softly call  
Good night and joy be with you all_

"What is this?" he asked, cocking his head.

"It's _The Parting Glass_ … I've always understood it to be a waking song," Melody answered. "It's just an old song people sing at the end of parties. I heard it a lot as a kid. Irish family, you know?" His eyes flicked to hers and then away again. "But the only time I ever heard it that it fit was at a wake. That's when people listen."

She gave a sad little smile and nod at the stage at the front of the bar, currently populated entirely by Phoenix's finest, in their Sunday best, getting quietly, comfortably drunk in memory of a friend and colleague.

"I like that he chose this." Her voice was warm with fondness.

Finally, Mac really looked around and noticed his surroundings, and that Jack was no longer at their table, drinking across from him. Against his will, in spite of his scattered, painful thoughts, he felt the corner of his mouth lift in a smile. "I didn't know Jack could really sing. He always screws around so much at karaoke, I thought he was just tone deaf."

"Our Jack is just full of surprises," she said. And he'd been right about what was bothering Mac. Not that the two of them could ever admit to having had the conversation while he'd been dressing for the funeral this morning.

"Usually," Mac responded, his eyes dropping to his empty glass again.

 _A man may drink and not be drunk  
A man may fight and not be slain  
A man may court a pretty girl  
And perhaps be welcomed back again  
But since it has so ought to be  
By a time to rise and a time to fall  
Come fill to me the parting glass  
Good night and joy be with you all  
Good night and joy be with you all_

Silence reigned again, and Jack walked down the short steps and toward the bar, stopping to shake hands or lean over to say something to people who'd known Milton, too, along the way.

This time Melody hazarded contact. She reached out and touched Mac's hand. "I don't want you to feel badly that you weren't there. You were where Matty sent you."

"Because I told her I didn't want to keep doing the things that could take me away from you. The fact that I have to keep going after Murdoc, knowing how you worry, that's bad enough."

He bit his lip. He hadn't meant to put it like that, or reveal quite so much of his inner turmoil, but he realized from her expression that she'd already known.

"Mac," she squeezed his hand. "You could get killed crossing the street. Hell, you guys almost got caught in a mudslide on that perfectly normal think tank mission, and then nearly got killed again filming a freaking cooking show."

He started to interrupt, but she kept going.

"And what about when the bad Bunsen burner went up a couple of weeks ago when you were working with your tutoring students? That could have been a lot worse than singeing a little of your hair."

He shook his head, rolling his eyes up toward where his bangs were still shorter than he ever normally wore them. "What exactly are you saying?"

Now, she got up and stood next to him. Reading her intention, and welcoming it, he slid his chair back, and she dropped down into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking directly into his eyes. "Only that you don't need to walk away from your job. You don't want to anyway. Not down deep. It's not just that you knew Todd. You're like this, at least a little, every time you watch the news, Mac."

"But what about …"

"I'm a worrier. And yes, your job comes with more than its share of extra. But it's also who you are. Saving the world is kind of your thing."

He almost laughed at the way she put it. "I thought that was your thing."

"No, I just patch up dumbasses who are worse at ducking than average. Fortunately, I've used up all my falling in love with them already. Which uncomplicates the rest of my professional life a little. And I've made my peace with the risks I guess. It just took me some time."

"What about kids?"

"What about them? Lots of parents can't talk about everything they do at work. Hell, I can't either. If we decide to make some little Macgyvers in the future, we'll figure it out then. Isn't making things up as you go along kind of your thing, too?" He bit his lip. "You don't have to make up your mind about what you want to do right now, Mac. But I know you, at least a little. You're not going to be happy with any decision you make because you feel like it's the only thing to do. Improvisers like options."

He nodded, with a smile and a clear eyed looked at her. "We do."

She kissed his cheek and got back up, returning to her chair, trailing her fingers down his arm, just to let him know she could sense he needed space for a minute, but that she was still available.

He glanced at Jack who was still at the bar. He was on his phone now, probably with Sarah. Mac frowned for a second, trying to get a good look at Jack's face. They'd been local mostly because Sarah was so close to her due date. So there was no way they would have been with Milton anyway, Mac realized. This loss just reminded him of why he did what he did; hell, why he'd joined the Army when he was still a kid. Poor Jack must be a worse mess than he was and today … Holy shit, today was the due date, wasn't it?

Maybe …

No; Jack was just talking over the noise of the music, clearly checking in, but not getting any worrying news.

Someone was singing _Sharp Dressed Man_ , Todd's favorite to cover at karaoke.

Jack's shoulder was better than they'd ever hoped. He was thinking of leaving because Mac was at this point. Jack was still in the life. And he had a wife and kids … well, kid, and almost plural kids. They were making it work.

Mac nodded to himself. "Improvisers do like options. You're right about that." She looked a question at him. "But I know marrying you is the right direction to take my life in. Everything else, we'll figure out. Except …"

He looked nervous, hesitant.

"Except what, Mac?" she asked gently.

"If I stay at Phoenix, doing … what I know I should be doing … Something could happen … And …"

She took his hand again. "And what?"

"And I've honestly never been worried about dying on the job … No, that's not right … I've never really been afraid of it, I guess. It's just something that you carry with you in this line of work."

She nodded. "I know it's been as a medic, but I've been in the field. I've thought about it myself."

"I've even thought that I was dying out there before. More than once. And I could stand it, you know? I'd made my peace with it."

She nodded, feeling her eyes fill at little at how vulnerable he sounded, at how he could so easily put himself in the shoes of their fallen teammate.

"The one thing I don't think I could stand … if something happened … would be dying without knowing you were my wife, and that we'd had that … That we'd looked at each other and said I do and …"

She nodded, tears spilling. She knew what she meant to him, but knowing and hearing someone say you'd be their last thought were two different things.

He brushed one hand across his own face and then reached out with his thumb and brushed her tears away too. "I guess this has all made me realize what you just said … This job is something I need to do … It's also made me realize that I can't let unknowns screw with my life. I want to do what I'm good at. And I want to marry the hell out of you."

She laughed softly. He chuckled in response; a sound she hadn't heard in days.

"Thing is, I know we had plans … but I suck at plans. And, you're right about taking chances. Doesn't matter what we do … anything can happen." She nodded, smiling. He blushed a little. "I don't think I want to wait until Christmas to get married."

She'd always thought she was really good at plans, but somehow, since she'd met Mac they didn't seem all that important. "I don't think I want to wait either."

Mac was the one to get up then and he pulled her up out of her chair, wrapping her in a particularly fierce hug. She squeezed back. Maybe they'd grow old together, maybe something unthinkable would happen. Maybe they'd have kids and settle in one spot. Maybe they'd travel the world along be together. But one thing was certain; they weren't going to let anything or anyone else dictate how they felt about each other or how they lived.

Death was a certainty. Todd Milton reminded them of that. Time had come to make each moment of happiness they knew they could grasp a certainty, too.

Jack rejoined them then, setting a bottle down in the middle of the table. "Hey there, love birds," he drawled, doing his best to keep his voice as light as he could. Funeral was over and he was doing his best to start moving on. You lost enough people, it started to be motions you knew how to go through. This one was rough though.

He'd promised himself he'd share that song. He'd sung it at his old man's funeral too, and somehow managed to not break down, so he'd been pretty sure he could honor Milton the same way, but being reminded of just how thin the line was between going home to your family and going home in a box was tough on anybody.

"Hey, Jack," they said together, breaking apart and returning to their seats.

They were up to something. Jack thought he knew what it was and he was glad. At least he was pretty certain Mel had the talk with Mac that he thought had to come from her, or he'd have had it himself.

"How 'bout one more drink to Todd? Then I gotta head home. Sarah wasn't feelin' her best and Freddie is being fussy as all get out."

Mac picked up the bottle and poured them each a very generous drink. They'd planned to call a Lyft anyway. No point in going home from this too sober. Wasn't a soldiers' funeral if it was all tea and cakes as far as his experience had ever shown him. Mel and Jack picked up their glasses when he raised his, both looking at him a little surprised.

"I suck at toasts," Mac said. "You guys already know that."

Jack tipped him a wink, and cleared his throat. "Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; Love leaves a memory no one can steal."

They both nodded, raising their glasses again, and then taking a drink. Before the men could lower theirs to the table again, Mel added, "We've toasted the dead. In my family that means we toast the living now." Her voice was tight, but she went on, making sure to look both men in the eyes as she spoke. "There are good ships, and there are wood ships. The ships that sail the sea. But the best ships, are friendships, And may they always be."

"I'll drink to that," Mac said, raising his glass to them both.

The bar had gotten noisy again, the sadness and melancholy that followed them to Milton's favorite bar after the service lifting as everyone got a little more under the influence. Their table hadn't been drinking heavily so they were a little less caught up in the atmosphere. Mel tipped her chin at the table, indicating Jack's phone.

"Jack, you're getting a call."

Jack swore a little when he missed picking up in time. "Damn, it was Sarah. She probably needs something on my way home."

He was about to call her back when a text came through. He paled visibly. "Um, Melody. I know this is a big deal, but I haven't read a single one of those books Sarah gave me … What's it mean if her water broke."

Mel's face broke into a huge smile. "It means we need to get a car right now!"

Mac got on his phone, to call for a ride. Mel went to get their coats. Jack just stood there for a minute.

Then he emptied his glass.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N - Family fluffy feels - Happy Saturday!_

Mac was sitting on the floor of the waiting room, trying to keep a fussy Fred entertained and starting to feel like maybe he wasn't as much of a baby person as everyone thought he was, when Melody came back through the door with some Fred-appropriate treats. She sat down on the floor with them and Fred climbed into her lap, immediately opening her mouth to accept a Cheerio.

"Any word yet?" she asked, amused by the way Fred was playing baby bird.

Mac shook his head. "Nothing yet. We should have heard something by now … She's pretty early, right? … Wanna go work your medical insider's magic and see what you can find out?"

She grinned at his expression and how he'd said all of that in one breath. "Aw, Big brother's nervous. Now you get to find out how Jack has felt all these years."

He grinned back. "Better watch my step then. I don't know if I'm up for that kind of excitement in my life. I'm kind of looking to not go grey for a while."

"You look like you need a baby break. I'll go poke around to see if I can get us an update when Freddie finishes her snack. Want to go grab us some coffee?"

Mac nodded and started to get up. Freddie shook her head vehemently. "Nac. No."

She'd never attempted his name before and his face broke into a huge grin. "On second thought, I might be okay with a few grey hairs."

He gave Fred his full attention. "Mac, yes. But how about apple juice for your cup?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yus Nac!"

He let himself be given a sticky Cheerio-scented hug before getting to his feet and heading toward the hallway that led to the cafeteria of the small private hospital Phoenix had arranged for the twins' birth.

He'd almost reached the door when Jack strode through it, and flopped down into one of the nondescript blue chairs closest to where Freddie and Mel were sitting. Mac decided coffee could wait and sat next to Jack, turned to face him. "How's it going, pal?" he asked carefully.

Jack scrubbed his hands over his face. "Um, good, I guess. Got myself banished for a little while though."

"What'd they banish you for?" Mel asked with concern.

Jack gave a sheepish grin. "Actually Sarah banished me. She's having bad back labor and said natural childbirth is for the birds, so they're gonna give her some anesthesia thing … I don't remember what they called it. But she said I should take a walk because she didn't want anyone to have to pick me up from the floor after I passed out. I walked some laps around the hospital for a few, then I came here. I'm not sure I should have left, no matter what Sarah said."

Mel smiled sympathetically. "Not to pile on Jack, but she's probably got a point. I'm a professional and some of the stuff that goes on in labor and delivery … Ugh. Pass. Somebody like you? Definitely better off coming in here and getting a Freddie hug."

Fred beamed and got to her feet without help or using furniture (a reasonably new skill) and started trying to climb into Jack's lap. He reached down to help her up.

"Careful, she's sticky," Mac warned.

Jack clearly didn't mind being sticky one bit. "Da!" she said, patting his cheek and looking totally ungrumpy for the first time that evening.

"Da," he agreed. Mac raised an eyebrow. "What?" Jack asked in response.

"I know that's how Freddie sees you, man, but do you think …"

"Go on, kid," Jack encouraged, and his eye had taken on a bit of a twinkle.

"Do you think her biological … do you think Jeff will freak out if he visits and she's calling you Dad?"

Jack's grin said his mind was off Sarah and the other babies for a minute. "I forgot to tell you guys. Got lost in the shuffle between that last mission and the funeral today I guess … Sarah's ex signed away his parental rights. Amazing how somebody can seem like a perfectly decent guy, then …" He stopped. He knew something had been up between Mac and his own father lately, although the kid hadn't said what. "This young lady will be Winifred Matilda Dalton just the second we get the papers in front of a judge."

"She's named after Matty?" Mac laughed. "No wonder she's such a terror when we don't do what she wants!"

"She's actually named after both her grandmothers, but we can let Matty have this one by not mentioning that," Jack chuckled. "Right Freddie?"

"Da!" she nodded enthusiastically.

A woman in pink scrubs interrupted from the doorway. "Mr. Dalton? Mrs. Dalton asked me to come and get you. It looks like things will get exciting very soon."

He assessed her demeanor, wondering if there was any cause for worry. The twins were about seven weeks early, which her doc said was actually really good for twins and these little ones seemed particularly hearty based on all the testing. But the word premature had made his blood run cold when they'd first mentioned it was a likely outcome for carrying twins. Her smile was very reassuring and relaxed and her movements unhurried. He decided things were just fine. He stood and Fred immediately started to fuss again.

"C'mon Freddie Spaghetti," Mac said, standing and putting out his arms. "Piggyback to get cookies?"

She grinned at the work piggyback and then even more at cookies. "Nac!"

He boosted her up onto his shoulders and bounced a little until she laughed. "Say bye to Ja … Daddy," he corrected.

"Da!" she shouted, opening and closing her chubby little hand in a wave.

Jack waved back and left, looking much more relaxed than when he'd come in. "I'll let you all know as soon as there's more Daltons. Then we can celebrate!"

Mac was about to take Fred for the promised cookies, when he caught Mel's expression as she got up off the floor. "Wanna come get cookies, too?" he asked.

"I always want cookies. Also … I sort of … I have an idea I want to run by you."

"What is it?" he asked, bouncing Fred again as she was starting to get impatient. He knew this by the sharp two-fisted pull the top of his hair just received.

She smiled, and it was almost shy.

0-0-0

Several hours, and one c-section later, Mac brought Fred to meet her new brother and sister. When he came into the room carrying a sleepy but happy to see her mom and dad Fred, Mac thought Jack looked wrecked and rumpled and ready to throw in the towel. Except for his expression as he looked at the little pink bundle in his arms. A similar blue bundle was clearly sleeping in the clear bassinet next to the bed. Sarah was also dozing peacefully.

"Hey there, Papa Dalton," Mac whispered.

Jack looked up with a soft, tired smile. "How's my girl?" he asked Fred quietly.

"Dadada dada,!" she said, wide awake once more. Her hands made a familiar grasping motion that said she wanted Da and she wanted him right now.

Jack raised his eyebrows in a question to Mac. He nodded and put Fred down and stretched out his hands to take her sister. Jack pulled Fred into a hug on his lap and watched Mac smooth back the blanket from the baby's face.

"She's beautiful, Jack."

He grinned. "That is Miss Rachel Amelia Dalton. And she's a looker just like her namesake." His grin became a little mischievous.

"Who's she named after?" Mac asked, not paying any attention to Jack's face.

"Oh just some silly ole bomb nerd what used to go by the name of Hollywood once in a while."

Mac looked up, frowning.

"Huh?"

"Rachel means lamb. Hah!"

"Very sneaky," Mac laughed and shook his head. "I'll just thank you on behalf of your daughter for not naming her Agnes." He tipped his head toward the bassinet. "How about that little fella?"

"Wyatt, cause that's mine and Pop's middle name. And Austin cause that's home for me an' Sarah both."

"Nice job with this whole Dad thing, pal."

"Well, I got lotsa practice before they came along, Big Brother."

Mac grinned. He didn't hate those words at all. Any of them. In fact he was kind of a fan. "How's Mama Dalton doing?" he asked.

"She's tough as nails and soft as silk and," his voice caught a little and his eyes watered but his smile grew. "Dear God I love that woman."

"Know what that's like, pal," Mac said softly. He looked down at the baby again. It was a strangely vulnerable feeling, holding something that small and fragile. Maybe that's why people either really liked babies or really didn't. You had to believe you could look out for both of you. That was a lot of pressure, a lot of responsibility. Even if you did the same thing for thousands, hell, millions of people all the time. "She seems like she's really out. Okay if I put her down with Wyatt? Mel ought to be back any minute."

Jack nodded. "Where is she anyhow? I know she says she's not a baby person, but I thought she'd at least wander in with you to meet them."

Mac shifted from on foot to the other, an oddly uncertain, sort of youthful gesture. "Um … she went to the gift shop. She wanted to change out of her black dress."

"How come? I mean I know she's usually pretty casual but that dress didn't look too uncomfortable … And you guys don't have to hang here … I mean …"

Mel came in before he could finish. She had a dozen pale pink roses in a vase which she quietly set down next to Sarah. She was also carrying two long stem red roses and a small plastic bag of rose petals.

"I like the dress," Mac said softly. It was a simple lavender colored t-shirt dress that he'd seen in the shop window walking Fred around earlier and he'd thought to himself that Mel would look lovely in that color.

"I knew you would," she smiled. "Did you tell him?" she asked.

Mac shook his head. "I was too busy meeting Wyatt and Rachel."

Mel peeked at the babies. "Who would have thought Jack could make such pretty babies," she teased. "And you guys picked really cute names," she observed, reading the card on the side of the bassinet.

"Rachel means lamb," Jack said, unable to help a snort of laughter at Mac's eyeroll.

"Aw, you got yourself a Mini-Mac," she said, slipping an arm around him.

Mac just shook his head in response, a fond smile for all of them on his face.

Jack frowned suddenly. "Tell me what?" They both looked at Jack. "You said 'did you tell him?' Tell me what?"

"That we need to borrow you and Freddie for a while."

"What for?" he asked.

Both Mac and Melody blushed faintly and smiled hugely.

Mel answered. "Because there's no way you boy takes this leap without you, and I need a flower girl."

Mac nodded. "We don't want to wait another minute."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N - Here's the moment my fellow shippers have been waiting for. For those of you still hanging in there even though finishing this is taking me forever, I appreciate you! Hope this delivers some good feels. There's going to be some action in this one again soon! ~ J_

"Here, let me," Mac offered, reaching out for Fred and plucking her off Jack's lap.

Jack grinned. "You look more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room fulla rockin' chairs, bud. You gettin' cold feet or somethin'?" he teased.

Mac smacked Jack on the arm almost reflexively, then fidgeted and threw Jack a nervous little smile. Fred frowned at him. "Nac, no!" she ordered.

"Sorry Freddie. I know, no hitting," Mac chuckled. He grinned at Jack. "She's nailed the boss tone. I predict your daughter is going to grow up to be a nurse."

"I predict she's gonna be somebody's badass bodyguard. She's just looking out for her Daddy. Arncha Freddie?"

"Da," she agreed and Mac laughed.

Jack pressed, "Are you seriously nervous about doin' this? Cause you guys could wait a minute and do it when you were planning at Christmas."

"I'm not nervous about the getting married part. I want that. I wish we'd done it sooner, but … I may be slightly worried about how pissed off her parents are gonna be that we're not waiting for them to fly out. Or having the big wedding they wanted." He sighed. "Boze brought over the iPad so they can still sort of be here. Mel is breaking the news to them now."

"Yeah well even if they're mad, they'll get over it," Jack said calmly.

"Yeah," Mac said absently, disentangling Fred's hands from his black silk tie.

At least he'd been sort of dressed for this. When she first brought it up in the waiting room, Mac hesitated, thinking it'd be weird to just run off and get married the day they buried a teammate. But then he sort of decided it was the right thing. He wanted it, God, just so much. And being reminded of that razor's edge they walked had made him want it even more. He supposed, like she said, it was a way to remember, to make the fallen part of what they'd build moving forward.

"Psst, hey Mac! We're ready if you are," Boze called in from the doorway.

Jack looked at him and raised his eyebrows in a slightly teasing way. "Are you?"

Mac gave him a shy mile in return. "Most definitely."

Mac got up and went to take the outstretched iPad from Bozer's hand. "Hey, Mr. Sullivan. Mrs. Sullivan," he said to his impending in-laws.

The greying red headed man on the screen chuckled and offered a fatherly understanding sort of smile. "When are you going to start calling us Dan and Nora? Or should we start calling you Mr. MacGyver?"

"I'd really rather you didn't, sir. I mean, Dan … I was honestly afraid you guys were going to be upset."

"The smile on my baby girl's face when I answered this call? Nothing much you could do today would upset me, Mac."

"Ditto," Nora agreed. She smiled and Mac thought again that while Mel and her mother looked nothing alike, Mel had gotten her mother's smile, which was at once both sort of movie star dazzling and girl next door sincere. Then she added, "Besides, since we eloped, we can hardly judge. It's lovely of you both to include us."

"You're not too disappointed?"

"Melody already promised you'll still have the reception over the holidays so everyone can come and celebrate with you."

A golden eyebrow went up. "Did she?" And here he thought he was off the hook for all of that. "Well, it would be a shame to disappoint everyone."

"Will your father be able to join you today?" Nora asked.

"Um … Jack's here," he answered, very nearly without thinking. "Hey … I'm getting very dirty looks from our officiant from the doorway, so I'm going to put you guys down in a pew and get things started."

He arranged the iPad in the front row, then he glanced up and nearly jogged to the back. "Ri! You made it!"

She threw her arms around him. "I was already headed over here to meet the babies." She paused. "And I was bringing company."

Riley stepped aside to allow Matty through the doorway. "Matty!" Man beamed, dropping down to pull her into a brief hug. "When you didn't answer your phone I was afraid you were too busy to come over at the last minute like this."

"And miss you signing the one contract that will assure me you won't just bypass Medical just because you and Dalton think you belong on the Justice League or something? Never."

He laughed. "I guess you got my email that I changed my mind about leaving."

"Did the smile that's starting to hurt my face give me away?"

Mac started to answer but Mel called from just outside the door. "Are we gonna do this or what? My feet hurt in these heels!"

Mac laughed. "So take them off!" he called.

She laughed. "You're the idea man."

Jack came back carrying Freddie back and put her down for his own set of hugs.

"Congrats on fatherhood, Old Man," Riley said into his shoulder.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Mac, I got to be a dad years ago, kid. But this is the first time you get to be anybody's big sister."

Mac added, "I don't know if this would be your first stint as a bridesmaid, but could you walk with Fred?"

Riley hugged him, too. "I'm honored, Mac."

Matty followed Mac, Jack, and Bozer down to the front.

Bozer stepped behind the podium, as Mac stood in front of it, and Jack took his place next to him. Matty faced the iPad. "Mr and Mrs Sullivan, it's a pleasure. I'm Matilda Webber. Mac and Melody work for me. I'd be happy to make sure you guys don't miss anything by holding the iPad."

Mac grinned. Everyone who was really important to him was here. And they were all pitching in on his latest improvisation. Bozer shushed everyone.

"Whoops, almost forgot," Jack said, and got out his phone. He opened his music app and put it down on the podium. A soft instrumental version of the Lumineers _Ho Hey_ started playing. They hadn't talked about music. Trust Jack to do something to make the moment even more memorable. And it was so perfect, so very them, Mac could feel a lump forming in his throat. He turned toward the doorway.

Riley led Fred down the aisle, grinning hugely when she took the whole bag of petals and tossed it up in the air in the middle of the aisle.

Jack laughed and shook his head, then he winked at the two girls and they sat down in the row across the aisle from Matty.

Mac's amused smile changed to one that was more perfectly content when Mel walked down the aisle, barefoot like he'd suggested, carrying the two roses she'd gotten downstairs. When she arrived next to Mac she handed Jack the flowers, then linked elbows with Mac and pulled him close to her.

Bozer cleared his throat and made eye contact with Mac, tilting his chin toward the door. Mac turned to see what was up. A small crowd of staff, patients, and visitors had formed at the entrance. Mac and Mel shared a look. Mac called out, "Hey! This is exactly what it looks like. Come on in and join us if you want."

The pews in the small chapel became dotted with other people just looking for a beautiful moment in a place too often full of ugly ones and Mac thought that was just perfect. Because really that's sort of how he and Mel had ended up together. Just two people who found something good in the midst of a lot of bad.

When the small crowd quieted Bozer began speaking.

"Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to witness my best friend prove he's never met a plan he can stick to."

Light laughter rippled around the room. Even the strangers who'd joined them had to chuckle. The way Mac blushed and ran his hand over the back of his neck told everyone present that he wasn't just being teased, he knew it was true.

"When Mac first told me he was getting married, I was thrilled. I'd been planning to be his best man since we were about eleven. But he told me he'd already asked his other best friend Jack to be his best man. I can't really explain why because, well, I'm not allowed, but I wasn't upset. There's a Wookiee life debt involved."

More laughter. Boze grinned. He loved doing this.

"But then he told me he wanted me to perform the ceremony and I knew that online divinity course I took so I could write a horror movie with accurate exorcisms finally paid off. Of course, I thought I had until Christmas to prepare! But even though I'm here without a script, it's one of the greatest honors of my life to gather you here today to witness the marriage of Angus Henry MacGyver and Melody Brigid Sullivan."

"Aw, Boze," Mel and Mac groaned together. Whole names should be publicly banned in both their opinions.

He tossed them is mischievous grin. "That's payback for springin' this in me, Mac!" He looked out at they audience, "And it's even more of a pleasure to tell you I don't have much left to say in this ceremony because even though they just decided to do this about three hours ago, they went and wrote their own vows. Which of you is ..?"

Melody let go of Mac's arm and turned so she could face him fully. She took both of his hands in hers. She glanced around a little nervously, but then her eyes met Mac's.

"This isn't just my vows. It's sort of a confession, too. When we met, I think it was four years ago, you know we clashed right off the bat. I think I yelled at you before I knew what your name was." She glanced at the gathered witnesses. "I'm a nurse, and he is a terrible patient."

"I don't think I'm that bad," Mac grinned and squeezed her hands.

"You've gotten better. A little." Laughter rang around again. "With no small amount of coaching."

"Coaching? Is that what you call being terrifying?"

She gave him a playful glare. "Quit interrupting my confession! Anyway … I called you stubborn and ridiculous … but what I really meant was 'you're gorgeous and I've heard all about you and I more than half had a crush on you already so please don't let me be the staff you finally do something stupid enough to die on'."

Mac flushed. "You had a crush on me?" He was rifling through his all to perfect memories for their first encounter. When he came up with it, he flushed a deeper shade of red and just shook his head.

"After that I hated even seeing you come into the infirmary. I was convinced you kept getting hurt just to torment me." She caught his eyes again and smiled. "Then we started actually working together. The more I was around you, the more I had to acknowledge that what I felt for you wasn't just simple care, or even friendship. I knew you were a hero when I met you. The moment I realized you were _my_ hero was one of the best I've ever known."

Mac pulled her toward him then and kisses her firmly on the mouth. A few whistles and some applause came from the audience as Boze reached across the podium to separate them. "Hey, enough! That doesn't happen yet."

Mac pulled away and grinned at him. "Sorry Boze. You're the one who pointed out how bad I am at plans though."

Bozer looked at Mel. "Go ahead, now that we've got Super Mac under control."

"Now you know. I liked you. When you thought I hated you. And I loved you long before I could ever have admitted it to myself or to you. So that's the confession part. Here's the vows."

She squared her shoulders and stepped just a little closer, tilting her chin up so she was looking directly in his eyes. There was an emotional sparkle to them; one she knew she shared at the moment. "Mac … I promise to be your wife, to miss you when you have to take off to do something important, to squeeze every moment of joy and purpose out of the time we have together. I promise to never live in fear of what bad things might happen, but to live in expectation of the good things. I promise to love you, the way a Mac needs to be loved. And to let you love me back. No walls, no games. Just us. That's what I promise."

Mac bit his lip for a second. He took a deep breath and started to speak. When no sound came out, he cleared his throat and tried again. "Mel. I … I'm so bad at this …"

This time she pulled him close and kissed him.

Bozer just laughed this time. "You folks get the feeling that keeping these two apart is a losing battle?"

It took them a little longer to come up for air this time, and when they did Mac just sent a sheepish gaze around the room and shrugged. "I love her. Not kissing her is not an option."

"Same," Mel agreed with a passing little wrinkled-nose grin.

"I'll keep this brief because words aren't really my thing unless I'm explaining something scientific … You know what … actually … Scientists will tell you all about the chemistry of love, from the sweaty palms caused by a rush or norepinephrine to the euphoria we feel when we are flooded with phenylethelamine and dopamine, the bonding we experience with the release of oxytocin … And I weirdly find all of that pretty romantic. You changed my body, changed my brain. But the science only gives you credit for doing it chemically."

He paused, then decided to follow his impulse to pull her to his chest and hug her to him tightly. Based on how she hugged back, it was a good impulse.

"You've taken care of me when I was hurt, when I was sick … and even when I was convinced you just had it out for me, you always went above and beyond. And as bossy and mean as I often accused you of being, I appreciated it." He swallowed hard. "I've never had an easy time admitting to needing help … no that's not true. Since my mom died, and especially since my dad left, it's been hard for me." He took a deep breath. He hadn't meant to mention either of his parents, but there it was. "Ask Boze … or Jack … the people I care most about are the hardest to accept that from."

"So being stubborn and ridiculous is your love language?" Mel teased affectionately.

"Trust me, it is," Jack contributed, and once again soft laughter filled the room.

"So that's my confession, I guess. Contrary to anything I would have said at the time, I liked you too." His blushing smile made Mel feel like her heart might just burst in her chest. "Now for the vow part."

He took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"I'll always fix your car when it makes that funny noise. I'll cook you chicken fingers and mac and cheese whenever you want it, and especially when you're tired. I'll rub your feet after you work a double or just because you want me to." She laughed softly at his practical declaration. He squeezed her hands. "I'll always try to make it home to you, no matter where I am or what my circumstances are."

He swallowed again. They both knew what he meant by that and the way her eyes were searching his face said 'You damned well better'.

"I'll always be stubborn and ridiculous. I'll always improvise. And I'll always, always no matter what, love you."

They weren't sure which of them initiated it this time, but they were a tangle of limbs and lips for a full minute before Bozer cleared his throat loudly. "Ahem! Would you two mind holding your horses so we can make this official?"

Mac disengaged first. "Sorry, Boze. I'm terrible at sticking to the script."

Mel grinned. "And he's a bad influence, too."

Bozer shook his head in affectionate exasperation with both of them. "The rings?"

"Oh, um, they aren't ready yet. That's why I got the roses. I forgot to tell you," Mel said.

"You improvised," Boze grinned. "You're right, he is a bad influence. You take one of those flowers then."

Jack handed Mel one of the long stem roses and leaned in and kisses her cheek. She beamed at him, before turning back to Mac.

Bozer started to speak, "Do you Melody take …"

"I got this Boze. I Melody take you Mac to be my husband and all that means, which in our case is maybe more than the average. And nothing and no one can ever stop it or get in the way of it and if they try they'll have me to deal with."

She handed him the rose. "I think I was supposed to say I do in there somewhere so … I do."

"Me, too," Mac whispered. He turned to jack and accepted the other rose from him, along with a quick fierce hug. Then he turned back to Mel. "I do, everything that means, everything it's always meant, past the inevitable heat death of the universe, Melody. I do."

They leaned in again, but Bozer reached out and put a hand between them. "Alright, before there's anymore improvising, by the authority of my online ordination and the state of California, I pronounce you husband and wife. So you can …"

They were already wrapped in each other's arms again, and everyone, the strangers and the friends, the family members, even those a whole country away, stood and applauded.

After a minute or two, they pride themselves apart and turned to face everyone. "Thank you!" they said together.

Boze grinned. "Mr. and Mrs. Angus and Melody Macgyver, everybody!"

The applause started again and they exited the chapel on a wave of it.


	11. Chapter 11

Melody sighed her contentment and rolled toward him, expecting, from his stillness, to find him asleep.

He wasn't.

Mac was lying on his side; his eyes, half-lidded with drowsiness, but awake enough that the smile on his lips was touching them, were fixed on her face. He'd been too sleepy to get up and get coffee and too happy to do more than just lie in bed looking at her.

She smiled warmly. "Good morning."

He slid over closer, draping an arm over her middle as he nestled into her shoulder. "Good morning, Mrs. MacGyver."

"I really like that a lot," she said, tucking her head against the side of his chest.

"Me, too."

"I know it was kind of impulsive …"

Mac grinned. She wasn't looking at it but she could definitely hear it. "Sorry about that."

She lifted her head. "Sorry? It was my idea."

The grin broadened to the point where she noticed he had dimples in both cheeks. She'd always thought it was just the one. Then she had to sobering, slightly sad thought that she had known him for almost five years at this point and she'd never seen him smile enough to really show all his dimples.

He unintentionally distracted her with with his light answer. "Yeah, but your ideas usually come with plans. I think the wedding officially solidifies my 'bad influence' status." His head dipped down again and kissed her shoulder. "All you got in the bad influence fight was getting me to agree to showers after missions that I really wanted to take with you already. So I win."

She cracked up. She couldn't help it. It was such a contagious, infectious sound, Mac started laughing too.

As their laughter tapered off they locked eyes and were suddenly kissing again, hands in each other's hair, murmuring little appreciations in the spaces in between like they always did.

For the next almost hour, the world fell away.

Afterward, they were a complicated knot of warm limbs and soft sighs and whispers of affection.

They lay like that for a little while. Mac was almost motionless ain a way she wasn't accustomed to. Mel thought maybe he'd gone back to sleep. She sort of wanted to, too, but she also didn't want to spend the two weeks Matty had given them off jet lagged and in their room.

She reached up and traced the newest scar, the one on his side that had sort of forced them to truly voice the depth of their feelings, or at least had prompted him to kind of propose in his totally Mac-like way, with her finger tips and was rewarded immediately with him rolling toward her and twining his fingers with hers.

"No tickling. New honeymoon rule," he murmured.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I kind of am. But not that asleep. You want some breakfast?"

"I think it's more like dinner," she said, checking the old digital clock on the nightstand.

"Yeah, it is isn't it?" He paused. "You want to get dressed and go get some food?"

"Does this offer come with a shower first?"

Mac's eyes opened all the way then. "I'd be going back on my end of our deal if it didn't. I've come to expect post mission showers."

She laughed. "Was marrying me a very taxing mission?"

"Well …" he trailed of with a teasing note in his voice.

He wasn't quite sure how she managed it, but somehow she was suddenly straddling his hips, more or less pinning him to the bed with strategically placed hands. "I think I might want to make you take that back." She grinned down at him, and he smirked in return. He deftly switched places with her setting her laughing and a little breathless. "How did you ..?"

"I'm a spy, remember? Wrestling an opponent is one of my skills. And I needed a chance to finish what I was saying before you decided to apply your usual unfair interrogation and negotiation tactics."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and something else. "Go on."

"The wedding was the easy part, the briefing so to speak. But sneaking past the security Matty sent along … It's easy to get lost in Venice! … then the sneaking back in ... I had to climb a tree to get in here unnoticed … that must count as a mission. And I don't recall a shower entering into the um … debrief … last night, this morning. You know, whatever."

"You didn't have to sneak out. One of those guys would have taken you or gone out. That what Matty sent them for."

"Of course I didn't _have to,"_ he laughed. "But my way was more fun. I've never gone on a _prosecco_ acquisition mission. It's important to continue to grow as a professional."

She was smiling broadly now. "You're right. I have been derelict in my duties. Can't start slipping just because we've altered our paperwork, I suppose. But … do you think a bath in that ridiculous sunken tub counts?"

He grinned, once again showing all his dimples. She resolved she was going to give him a reason to show them more often. "Definitely."

0-0-0

"We should get a tree."

Mac stopped reading the morning news and put down his tablet. "Hmmm?"

"A tree. When we get home. We should get a Christmas tree. For the house."

He smiled and shook his head. "Thanksgiving isn't until three days after we get home. That's a little early don't you think?"

She put down the paperback tha had given her the thought in the first place. "I was just thinking, we have all those beautiful decorations we bought for the wedding … and it would be a shame to let them go to waste just because I couldn't go another day without hearing you say I do."

There was a light, teasing tone in her voice, but Mac's forehead had started to crease. "We can still have the reception. I'm pretty sure your mom and dad are expecting …"

"We haven't caught Murdoc yet," she blurted. "I'm not … I don't … He'll never let us have …"

She'd gone from talking about something simple and fun like decorating for Christmas to going pale and stammering. Without even thinking, he pulled her into his arms and found himself being clung to for dear life. "Hey, shhh, it's okay," he soothed almost automatically. "We're not going to let him take that from us, alright? Matty will take care of security and we'll still get our day. He's not going to try anything. We won't let him."

He wasn't about to admit it out loud, because while she hadn't started, he could tell from the almost desperate way she held him that she was close to tears, but he'd been thinking the same thing about the wedding until the twins birth changed their plans. He'd been thinking they should postpone the wedding, that it was a perfect invitation for the bastard to try and ruin something else of Mac's.

He hadn't said anything because he didn't want to postpone anything, he hadn't wanted to wait. Now Melody was his wife. His _wife_. And they'd been so happy to be able to say I do. On the surface. Now he knew this fear of Murdoc highjacking their lives once again was weighing on both of them.

Mac's teeth clenched. Mel heard the freak of the muscle in his jaw, so tense it sounded like an old piece of leather being stretched to far. Like an old set of reigns. She realized that was probably a really appropriate metaphor. It was the sound she associated with Mac holding himself back, with not allowing himself to feel.

She sat up, resting her hand on his chest. The pain of coping with what Murdoc had been doing to his life, yo their lives, was there for a split second, but he wiped it clean in less than no time. He couldn't quite look neutral though. That was beyond him at the moment.

"I'm sorry," she began.

He frowned. "What for? Wanting Christmas? We can get a tree as soon as we get back and as far as the party …"

"Don't. Don't do the thing where you pretend everything is okay with you." Mac's eyes widened a little, somewhat taken aback by the heat in her tone. "I meant I'm sorry I brought up Murdoc. It's not like you needed to be reminded. It was shitty of me. If he's in my head as much as he is, what must it be like to be you?"

"Don't be sorry," he said immediately, scooting himself all the way up to sitting and pulling her into his arms again. "He's screwed with your life too. At least the 'me' part of it. And it never even occurred to me you wouldn't still want the reception and stuff. That was the part we were really looking forward to anyway, the important part for our friends and for us. The wedding was …" he trailed off and she pulled back to get a good look at his face.

"Was what?"

He blushed furiously looking like he didn't want to go on, but Mel wouldn't let him off the hook and he knew it. He gave her one of his sideways smiles. "A formality. You've had my heart in your pocket since long before we got to that chapel."

She smiled softly. "I think you should have been a poet instead of a spy."

He grinned. "Hey, there's still time."

A while later Mel stretched and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. "Shower?" She asked.

"Mmmm," Mac mumbled, not opening his eyes. Then after a minute, "Whafor?"

"I thought we were going to do the whole gondola tourist thing. Do you still want to?"

He cracked an eye open. "We _could._ Or … we could stay here."

"We've barely left the house all week," she said, amused.

"Pretty sure that's what honeymoons are for," he smirked, finally getting himself out of bed too.

She laughed. "Well then, we've been doing a hell of a job. But it might be nice to see the city too."

"You don't mind going out with the security detail? I feel so foolish wandering around with an entourage."

"Never bothers you to drag Jack along," she observed lightly, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the hot water for them.

"Jack's different."

She grinned. "He certainly is." She paused. "Have you heard from your dad at all?"

Mac nodded, using some mouthwash. After he spit it out, he shrugged. "You were asleep but he finally called last night to congratulate us."

"That's nice," she observed, sounding reasonably neutral. "I wouldn't have minded if you woke me up to say hello."

Mac shook his head and stepped into the shower, waiting for her to join him to speak. "You don't have to try so hard to like him, Mel. I appreciate it. But it's not necessary."

"He's your father."

"Yeah, he is. But …"

"But what?"

Mac shrugged, reaching for the shampoo. "But he's not … he's not really _my dad_. I'm glad we're speaking, glad I have a chance to try to work through my stuff with him about the past … about my mom … I don't need you guys to feel any particular way about each other. You know? Does that make sense?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "I guess so. I do know I really wanted my dad to like you though."

He laughed. "Well I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty pleased that he seems to. But … Jack likes you … That's enough for me."

She grinned. "I love Jack. As far as surrogate father-in-law's go, I've pretty much hit the jackpot, so to speak."

"Oh no, not you too! No bad puns or word games! I can't take more than one of you doing that!"

She took the shampoo from him. "I'll try to restrain myself. Do you think he'll come to the reception … since we're going ahead with it?"

"Keep Jack away from a party? Fat chance."

"Not Jack! Jack's always there. For everything. I meant your father."

Another shrug. "Maybe. I can't really say with him. If he does, that'll be nice … if he doesn't, I'll already have all my real family with me, Mel. That's … I think that the biggest thing I've figured out the last couple of years."

"What's that?"

He pulled her under the water with him and she wrapped her arms around him. "That family is a choice, that happiness is too really. When you've figured that out nothing and nobody can take it."

Her expression sobered. "Not even Murdoc?"

"Especially not him."

When they were drying off, Mac caught her mischievous expression in the mirror. Serious talk time was apparently over with. "What are you thinking?"

"That maybe boat rides in dirty water are overrated. Maybe we could just go back to bed? I know we made plans, but I think … Maybe plans are overrated too."

"Oh, Mrs. MacGyver, I like the way you think."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N - Another honeymoon chapter for fanoftheboyz._

 _A little bit of heat, followed by Mac really realizing he can open up to someone other than Jack. I think we all need to know Mac will be okay without Jack right now. Here's some fluff and some slight angst that I hope, in some small way, eases the sting of the recent news. ~ J_

 _0-0-0_

"You're getting a little sunburned, I think," Mac observed as he clung to the edge of the pool, grinning up at Melody who was more than half asleep in the deck chair, wearing what she called her scandalous honeymoon bikini. It was absolutely his favorite shade of purple to see her in, though there wasn't much of it.

She opened her eyes. "Are you trying to get me to put more clothes on?"

"Please don't," Mac laughed and pushed off from the edge of the pool, casually floating away on his back. "I was just gonna say that you now look literally hot, not just, you know, the metaphorically I've mentioned repeatedly. And then I was going to say the water is really nice and it might cool you off."

The double raise of his eyebrows said unequivocally that he wanted company. She finished her Rossini cocktail and put her glass on the side table she'd discarded her book a while ago. Jeff, one of their security guys, had paid for college as a bartender, and this afternoon the two of them had fully been appreciating his skills. Mel perhaps a little more than Mac, she realized as she stood and felt the real buzz of the alcohol make her head swim a little.

God, it was nice to just feel relaxed, and unbelievably good to see Mac mostly feeling the same. She hadn't realized exactly how tightly he'd wound himself until he'd started to let down a little. Although, she thought he looked unexpectedly tired today. She'd have to make sure he got some sleep tonight. She'd probably suggest canceling their plans to go to the opera in favor of more time in bed. She thought he'd happily agree to that, even if he didn't think she meant for sleeping.

Mac gave a long appreciative whistle. Then he laughed, almost blushing. "It's creepy when a guy does that, isn't it?"

"Not if he's your husband," she replied, sliding into the water and giving a little shiver at the sudden change of temperature. "I'd whistle back but you could make a parachute out of those trucks so I can't tell if I should."

He laughed again as she pulled him against her in the cool water until as much of their bare skin as possible was touching. The contrast of her sun-warmed body against his made Mac realize just exactly how long he must have been swimming laps. He'd had something of a difficult night, but he didn't want to say anything, just figured some decent exercise would get rid of the jitters his dreams had left him with without ruining his time with Mel.

"These are surf shorts. They're all I own."

"I've noticed. But you hardly ever surf. And we definitely have a pool for just normal people swimming. I feel like I'd be derelict in my wifely duties if I didn't try to talk you into less clothes for that."

She winked and he just grinned and shook his head.

"I never thought much about it. I always wore these because I used to be self conscious about those scars on my knee. My ex was … kind of weird about them. I think I've told you this."

She reached her hand out of the water and traced the scar on his chest, the ones on his shoulder, and then trailed her fingers down his rib cage to trace the scar the bullet wound and slight loss of a slice of his liver had caused. "Not these scars," she observed.

He squirmed away from her touch. "I thought we agreed that wasn't allowed on the honeymoon."

"I don't remember agreeing to that. Just that you said it." He laughed, shaking his head again. "You aren't, are you? Self-conscious about them anymore, I mean?"

"Not really. I don't love thinking about how they happened. But mostly you're the only one whoever sees them anyway. And since they're a constant excuse for you to use your unfair advantage of not actually being ticklish against me, I know you don't mind them."

Mel smirked. "Are you sure I'm not? I don't think you've tried very hard to find out. Because you're too afraid of retaliation," she teased, turning and starting to swim away.

One blond eyebrow climbed. "Oh really?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "I mean, if you're right, the retribution for trying will probably be unbearable. But if you're wrong, you could level the playing field for future marital negotiations."

He grinned mischievously. "Worth the risk."

Then he dove after her through the water.

0-0-0

Mac had been totally receptive to Mel's suggestion of staying in. He'd even confessed, when pressed, that his sleep had been fractured by some "weird dreams". He loved the idea of ordering food in and watching YouTube videos in bed between bouts of exercise designed to wear him out enough to sleep properly.

Mel was surprised by how early he'd gone to sleep and how completely out cold he'd been. At first she'd been convinced he was faking, but his breath stayed so slow, so even, for so long, she knew it had to be real by the time she succumbed to sleep herself.

"No."

At first it was a mumble, so low her half asleep brain wasn't even sure she heard it.

Then it came again, a little louder.

"No, don't."

Mel shifted toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder and jostling it gently. "Mac, hey, wake up," she whispered.

He abruptly rolled over at her touch with a murmur of distress. It was followed almost immediately by a shout, a jerking thrashing movement, and the soft thump of Mac hitting the floor, cushioned by having accidentally wrapped himself in all their blankets.

Mel sat up but made no immediate move toward his side of the bed. She'd learned months ago that she could be as supportive and nonjudgmental as humanly possible, but he'd still be embarrassed and upset if he woke her. More often than not he'd insist he was fine and go spend the rest of the night pacing on the deck. After a minute of listening to his ragged breathing, she couldn't stand it any more. "Mac?"

"Mmmhmm," was barely loud enough for her to hear.

"Mac … Honey, are you okay?" she asked softly.

"'Nother honeymoon rule, no nurse tone," he said, and she could hear the slightly disgruntled expression that came with it, although she made no move to see his face in the dim room.

"Maybe that was just 'concerned her husband fell out of bed' _wife_ tone."

A snicker, followed by a sniff told her he'd woken up in tears but was doing his level best to get on top of it and forget about whatever had caused it. Tears were not something she could just sit there and listen to, even if he'd rather that's what she did.

Mel turned on the light, got up, and walked around the bed. She was unsurprised that Mac had used her brief travel time to leap to his feet, and he already had his back to her as he busied himself making the bed back up.

"Here, let me help."

"I've got it," he said softly. Then to buy himself a minute, and let her know he appreciated her concern, he asked, "Would you mind grabbing me a bottle of water, please?"

She paused for a second, at war with the desire to help and the knowledge that Mac was a man who needed a certain amount of space. She told herself firmly that this wasn't about her. It was about Mac. "Be right back."

She brushed his arm with her finger tips as she moved away. He reached out and squeezed her hand briefly but didn't turn to face her.

She took her time going downstairs to the small refrigerator that was mostly full of bottled water since they hadn't had any real interest in cooking on this little impromptu honeymoon Matty had arranged. Mac was giving off all of his not so subtle 'I need space' cues. And she wanted to respect it, but she also felt strongly that she didn't want to see him start walking himself off the way he had for years. She had a sneaking suspicion their conversation about still having the reception even though Murdoc was still in the wind was behind his nightmares tonight.

She sighed quietly. Nothing was ever easy. Then again, she thought, they'd probably be bored to tears if it was. She headed back upstairs trying to decide exactly what to do to balance what he wanted and needed with her own need to do something, to balance his desperately private nature with her innate need to help.

When she got back to their room, he'd already turned the light off again and was lying on his side facing away from the center of the bed, head tucked into the crook of his elbow like he was asleep again.

 _Typical._ She felt her lips curl in a fond smile. _Far be it from me to let the change in our relationship status mean I'm going to let this man outfox or outstubborn me_ , she thought. So she walked around to his side of the bed and sat down next to him, tight to his middle. She unscrewed the cap on the water bottle.

She began softly, "Hey, I got your water."

He didn't stir. She set down the water bottle and put her hand on his cool bare shoulder. He must've shed his t-shirt. Meaning whatever nightmare had left him sweaty, and instead of finding a new one he'd just ditched it and climbed hastily back in bed to avoid conversation. She shook her head. _This is about him, Melody_ , she told herself firmly. _Yeah, and he's making it about me by trying to button himself all up and pretend he's okay just because I'm here. He can't do that for the rest of his life!_

"I'm not buying it."

She heard him sigh quietly and another minute passed before he whispered, "Thanks for the water."

"You're welcome." She squeezed his shoulder gently. After a minute she asked, "Are you going to have some or was that a clever ruse to get rid of me?" Her tone was light, no pressure was implied, but he sighed again and rolled onto his back.

"Little of both I guess." His voice was tight but she could hear the beginnings of him wanting to smile, then she saw a quick white flash of it in the dark, gone again almost as quickly as it appeared.

Finally he pushed himself up to sitting, leaning against the ornate wooden headboard of the even-grander-than-king sized bed. He took a sip of the water almost dutifully, then after a second's hesitation, he downed the whole thing in a few long swallows. Mel just sat quietly, having shifted her hand to rest on his leg. Even through the blankets on this warm pleasant night she thought he was shivering a little.

"Afghanistan," he said finally.

"You were dreaming about the war?"

He nodded. She could just barely see it in the dark and she wanted very much to turn the lights on, but she could hear tears or the nearness of them in his voice and she didn't want to make him feel self-conscious.

"Sort of," he went on, wishing he'd asked for two waters and then feeling silly because when he'd asked he hadn't been thirsty at all, just wanted her to miss his struggle for control. She gave his leg another gentle squeeze, but stayed quiet.

Mac frowned. He was so used to Jack and Bozer being the ones who were around for stuff like this. They were always full of questions, active expressions of sympathy, or in Jack's case sometimes actively pissing him off on purpose as a means to get him to unload.

Mel's silence was both better and worse.

He appreciated the space, but also didn't know how to respond to it. It felt like even more pressure than his friends' chatter. He knew she didn't mean it like that, anymore than she meant it when she slipped into her nurse tone when she was worried, but knowing didn't stop the feeling of being trapped by it, didn't stop the hot tightness in his chest, or the flush spreading up his neck and face.

He didn't realize he was holding his breath, but Mel did. She leaned carefully forward, telegraphing the movement. She brushed his cheek with a light kiss. "Do you need to be alone for a bit, Mac?"

The gentleness of the question, the bare vulnerability involved in not trying to make him be anything he wasn't, absolutely undid him. Tears started, burning their way down his cheeks. But he bit his lips, silent.

This was their honeymoon, regardless that a week ago they'd lost a friend and teammate, regardless that they'd seen Jack welcome two new lives into his world, regardless even that once again plans meant almost nothing we he was involved with them and he'd basically eloped with this woman. This was supposed to be fun, to be light, to be an escape. And his dreams reminded him that in his life there was no such thing. He didn't want to ruin this for her; didn't want to let his past take this from both of them, so he nodded again, not trusting his voice at all.

She squeezed his hand as she rose. "Okay. I'll be downstairs. You let me know if you need me."

Another silent nod.

She was in the doorway when the broken sob, "Don't go. Don't go, I'm sorry," stopped her cold.

She climbed up on the bed and across it to him because that was the fastest way she could get there. "Mac, hey, no, no, don't be sorry, you don't have to be sorry for anything."

"But I am. I'm always sorry," he whispered.

"Not with me. You don't have to be that for me."

First his head was in her hands and she was kissing the tears from his face, then somehow he was in her arms, and then later, and neither of them quite remembered the progression of how they got there, they were laying in bed under the silk sheets again, wrapped around each other like vines.

Mac felt like a wrung out rag.

His nose was stuffy and his head ached in the dull persistent manner only a heavy cry or a wine hangover could induce. But he also weirdly felt better. It wasn't as though he'd never opened up about his dreams, or his inner struggles, before. But in the past he'd mostly done so grudgingly or as the result of someone else's pressure or persistence. Even Mel's a few times.

Tonight was just different. She'd been totally willing to let him have his space, his silence, and that somehow made it possible to ask for closeness, to tell her everything in a way he never had, not with anyone. He even told her about his mother.

She'd cried a bit, too. He understood. Seeing someone you loved in pain was not easy. He was doing his best not to feel bad about her tears. In a way they were evidence, just like her willingness to let him be alone, that she understood him, or at least she wanted to, not for herself, but for him.

Instead of saying he was sorry again, he made a very conscious decision when he was finally ready to speak. "Thank you, Melody."

"You're welcome … wait … for what?" she asked, feeling confused and pulling him closer as the result.

He kissed the top of her head, then moved to press his cheek to hers, and gave her a gentle squeeze. He smiled. She could feel it almost against the corner of her mouth. "For letting me talk … and being willing to let me not talk, too."

She sniffled a little, not a hundred percent sure that she was entirely done crying over some of what he'd shared over the last few hours, and damned sure she wasn't done crying over the absolute anguish that had colored his voice at times or the detached colorless one that accompanied what she was sure were almost unbearable memories and memories hijacked and twisted by his dreaming mind. "I want you to be you, Mac."

He sighed, but this time there was some contentment in the sound. "That's all I ever want for you too, Melody. For you to be yourself with me. For us to be … safe. And I don't mean that like …"

"I think I know what you mean." She paused and snuggled against him more securely. "So … if being me means I go all nursey on you, do I get a pass now?"

He laughed softly. "I may have to evaluate that on a case by case basis."

They held each other quietly for a while. "Do you want to cancel the reception?" Mac asked finally.

"I do and I don't." She thought for a minute. "I want us to have our party. I want to celebrate us with our friends and our families. But I won't lie and tell you I'm not scared to do. I'm worried about Murdoc. I can't help it."

Mac's silence was thoughtful. "I feel the same way," he finally admitted.

"So what do we do?"

"Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock?"

She laughed and he flashed a two-dimpled unself-conscious grin. "Or it could be Future Mac and Mel's problem. You sound exhausted and if I'm honest I can barely keep my eyes open. We could just sleep on it."

A full minute of quiet.

"Sure."

"You're not sleepy?" She asked, hearing some tension in his brief answer.

"Yeah, no. I'm sleepy."

"You said _yeah no_. What's the matter? Or have you talked yourself out tonight?"

He pulled her close. "I … This is a big bed. We roll away from each other in our sleep."

"Oh."

Her heart broke for him just a little then. What he was saying was 'please hold me' but he couldn't quite be so blunt right now, not after revealing so much of his inner turmoil tonight. She thought about it for a little while.

"Want to go sleep on the couch with me downstairs?"

He was silent again, just hugging her fiercely. "That'd be great."

Once the were settled in, Mac's back pressed against the back cushions, and Melody playing the little spoon, arms wrapped around each other in the haphazard imminently safe feeling way that particular cuddling position always seemed to result in, the simultaneously let out a long breath, then laughed softly.

"Better," Mel asked.

"Much."

"I love you."

"I know."

"No Empire quotes. I'm too tired to pop culture right now."

He snugged her closer to his chest. "I meant really. I know you love me because you show me all the time. And especially tonight."

"Good," she said with a slight nod. "I'm glad."

"And I hope you know how much I love you. It's hard for me to say sometimes because the words … they don't feel big enough. But I really do."

"I know, Mac. You show me, too. Especially tonight."

He wasn't exactly glad his nightmares had woken them both. But as he drifted off, his wife in his arms, he still managed to be grateful. He'd told Mel just about every important story out of the book of his life, even the ones that still made him ashamed and afraid.

And she just wanted to keep reading.

He realized, with a soft tired smile, that, so did he.


	13. Chapter 13

The formal ceremony had gone off without a hitch, so to speak. If Mel's parents and their nearest and dearest hadn't known they were already married, no one would have guessed. Bozer's performance was especially good. Mac knew it was killing the man not to regale the entire crowd with tales of Mac and Mel eloping, in a hospital of all places.

Freddie the Flower Girl was the only one who nearly gave them away, gleefully shouting, "Again!" every time she tossed flowers into the air. Mac and Mel just kept looking at each other and nearly laughing. So it was really less Fred and more them, but that didn't make it any less funny.

Jack had made everyone there laugh out loud when Mac had just given Fred an indulgent smile and given her more petals to throw while they were trying to get through their vows. Jack picked her up off the ground once she started trying to take other people's flowers to throw, given Mac and Mel a mock glare and said, "Just you wait until you have one of these!"

Predictably, Mac and Mel had laughed, but they'd blushed a little, too. Now, the pair stood outside the reception hall, waiting for the DJ to announce their arrival. Mac fidgeted briefly and swallowed loudly enough that Melody heard it. She pulled him into a hug.

"You can't possibly be nervous about a crowd of friends, Guy Who Disarms Bombs Like Some People Do Crosswords," she teased.

"I'm not." He flashed a hesitant smile. "I just keep thinking …" He trailed off and shifted uncomfortably.

Mel nodded knowingly. "What if there's a homicidal party crasher?"

Well, that had been exactly what was on his mind, but he wasn't actually going to admit to it. "Nah, mostly I was thinking that I think I liked the t-shirt dress you bought in the hospital gift shop better … you know … the last time we got married."

She laughed and pulled him in for another squeeze and an "I now pronounce you" level kiss. "And here I thought you'd like this one better. What with the additions Matty had Boze sew into it."

He paused a moment, realizing the fabric felt stiffer under his hands than he expected it to as they rested on either side of her waist. "Ballistic fabric?"

"Some women want Versace, but I'm more of a Kevlar kind of girl."

Mac smiled and shook his head, looking vaguely regretful. _There's no point in worrying about what you can't change, Angus. Let today's troubles be enough for today_ , he thought, but heard it in his mother's soft voice.

He'd thought of her often today, most especially when it had become clear his father wasn't coming. Mac reasoned that his father was an imminently practical man and he knew he and Mel had been married for a month already. But it still stung a bit. Mel's expression changed and he could tell she was going to do that thing where she saw through him right to the heart of what he was thinking, so he deflected with his original uncomfortable thought. It was at least honest.

"I can't say I'm glad any of us had to think that way … it bothers the hell out of me … but … you do look beautiful as well as bulletproof." She just raised an eyebrow at him. "What? Is my vest ruining the lines of the tux or what? Because I'm very dedicated to the no new bullet holes promise. Today especially."

She laughed then, letting him off the hook just in time to hear their names and enter the reception hall on a wave of warmth from the clapping and cheering. Mel was once again taken by Mac's skill at adapting to any situation.

She knew him to be a shy, somewhat reserved person, but as they made their way to the head table, his handshakes, hugs, brief conversations were all perfectly natural, relaxed even. That stuff came naturally to her and even she was feeling pretty overwhelmed by the time they took their place at the head table. She knew it had taken a toll on him so too when he downed three glasses of champagne in quick succession.

She squeezed his leg gently and he flashed her a dimply smile, and took her hand. The pressure he offered in return was reassuring, but also said he appreciated her noticing his discomfort. Jack glanced at both of them, like he sensed something was a little off, but just smiled when he saw how they were looking at each other. When he caught Mac's eye, he gave a little nod and a wink. Then he got a mischievous grin and rapped his spoon against his glass and the rest of the reception hall quickly followed suit.

Bowing to tradition, and blushing furiously, the happy couple obliged with a slightly self conscious kiss. That set of a series of demands for more kisses. Finally Mac stood up waving for quiet. "We appreciate the encouragement guys, but how about we break for dinner?"

Laughter rippled around the room and the waitstaff obliged by filing in with trays of food. Mel kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for the distraction. I'm getting chapped lips."

They both chuckled softly. They looked around at everyone talking and laughing and starting to dig into their Bozer-approved Christmas pastrami.

"I'm glad we went through with this," Mac said suddenly.

Mel paused, swallowing a bite of buttered roll with a sip of champagne. She put down her glass and looked at him. "Me too."

He cleared his throat. "Matty told me she still wants us to take the honeymoon we originally planned."

Mel grinned. "Even though she already sent us to Venice? I like her better and better."

Mac grinned. "You still want to go up to the cabin? Even after Murdoc ..?"

"Yeah. I do. Screw him."

He was about to tell her a little more about the plans he'd made for the cabin but the DJ indicated that it was time for the ubiquitous toasts. Mac just smiled politely as Mel's best friend from nursing school stood up. She told a brief story that Mac hadn't ever heard. Melody's high school sweetheart had been killed in a car crash a week before graduation. Her friend Rebecca glanced at her and Mel looked a combination of slightly sad at the memory and ready to kill Becks for bringing it up.

"I don't mean to put a damper of the festivities by remembering Alex. I really don't," she said almost breathlessly. "But anyone who's known Mel for long knows that kind of … made her hard. She hid behind this need to be in charge, to be in control. To fix things."

There were nods scattered around tables, and Mel shifted in her seat, the stiff fabric of her dress rustling with the movement. Mac gave her hand a squeeze and instead of a self conscious look or a plastered on smile, she just turned in her seat and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder.

He pulled her tight to his chest. Rebecca smiles and went in. "I don't really know Mac and I don't know how he did it, but this … them … We've got Mellie back. And I know they're gonna have an amazing life together because they're clearly both really amazing people. To the Macgyvers!" She raised her glass and everyone stood and toasted them.

Mel and Mac released each other long enough to take their own drinks. Mel gave his hand a squeeze and stood for her turn. "Thank you everybody for coming today. And thank you Rebecca. You're looking at me like I ought to be upset with you. But all you did is remind everyone here just how precious every moment with someone you love really is. And that finding someone who knows it can make everything right." She looked around the crowd. "I don't have much else to say other than have fun. We're glad you're here. And I'm unbelievably grateful to be here with my husband to share it with you. Wow, I really like saying 'husband.'" A ripple of laughter moved through the room and her nose wrinkled with a quick grin. She raised her glass. "To the future."

She wasn't quite back in her seat when Jack stood. Mac swallowed hard. He didn't know exactly what to expect, but he found himself already feeling a little emotional in advance of whatever Jack might say. Jack glanced at him and Mac managed to nod his encouragement.

Jack gave the crowd his most charming grin. "A lotta you don't know me, or even Mac really. But like Mel said, we're all glad to have you here so you can make a start at it."

Mac found himself relaxing. Jack was so good at this. So natural. He should have been a teacher or something.

"I met Mac on the sunny side of hell, back around 2010 I guess it was. For those of you that don't know, that's Afghanistan. I was assigned go bust some crazy-assed kid who took apart bombs out trouble with the bad guys. And I swear to you that never had I ever met anyone worse at gettin' rescuedin my whole life."

Mac's eyes searched the crowd then. Some of their old crew had made it here today and they were all grinning and nodding. Mac blushed faintly.

"He just kept divin' right in to help other people, no matter how bad off he was himself." Jack paused. "Some things never change I guess."

Mac smirked and shook his head.

"If you ask him about his work, he'll even what he does for fun, he'll say, 'A little of this, a little of that'."

There was general laughter then. Mac held up his hands, conceding that was pretty much exactly what he'd say.

"And I guess that's true. Mac is kind of a Renaissance man. But what he really does is solve problems. He fixes things. Because that's who he is. He's a fixer, a solver … And he has been for as long as I've known him, which is actually a long damned time." Jack dramatically brushed a hand through his greying crop of hair. Everyone laughed a little again. "I guess he's probably always been out to take care of the whole world. To fix everything so things are easy … Except when it came to himself."

Mac fidgeted then, started twisting his napkin. Jack noticed out of the corner of his eye. He also noticed Mel slide closer and put an arm around him.

"I've never met anyone less interested in himself than Mac. He ought to have the world's biggest ego, too. He's smart … like Einstein smart. But he's the first to admit when he doesn't know something. And he's so damn pretty, once upon a time, back in that wasteland I mentioned earlier, everybody called him Hollywood."

A couple of catcalls from their old crew stopped Mac's fidgeting and got them an eye roll. But he could feel his ears and neck warming. He knew everyone could see it, too, which only made him blush more furiously. Jack went on.

"And he's not just smart, he's clever. You ever fixed the office copy machine with a paperclip? Cuz our boy has. Hell, I've watched him disarm an IED with a gum wrapper."

More whooping and whistles from the guys and Mac couldn't help but grin.

"You know all that and you'd think he'd be at least a little self-centered. But he's not. He thinks so much about other people, he'd forget to eat if I didn't remind him. And I didn't think he'd ever slow down long enough to give a thought to what he wanted or needed."

Jack cleared his throat and Mac swallowed hard. This was about to get emotional. _Why did I think this was a good idea again?_ Mel pulled him to her tighter, ignoring all the eyes on them.

"Until he met Melody … Well," he grinned. "Maybe 'met' is jumping the gun a little. They were at odds a lot when she first came to work at The Phoenix Foundation."

Those present who knew the real nature of their jobs and exactly what Mac and Mel had thought of each other when they'd met laughed. Jack let it go at that, since more would probably violate national security.

"Nowadays, Mac's learned to stop and smell the roses a little. And for that, I have to thank his missus." Mel flashed him a broad smile. Jack tipped her a wink. "Of course everyone at Phoenix should probably thank Mac for softening Mel up a little. She's much less inclined to treat the yearly office flu shots like a game of darts than when they met."

Again, everyone who knew them laughed. It was an entirely affectionate sound. They'd made each other better, made each other more completely themselves. Mel got another laugh out of the crowd when she gave Jack a mock glare. "Just you wait, Dalton! You've given me the slip so far this year, but I just married a guy who can make a crossbow out of newspapers and underwear. I'll get you yet!"

He winked at her again. "Game on, Mrs. MacGyver. He might be your husband, but he's my partner. He'd never do that to me."

Mel laughed with everyone and Mac held up his hands in an amused 'leave me outta this' gesture.

Jack cleared his throat again. "Speaking of partners, I just wanted to take a minute of the time they've given me to thank him for the fact that I'm still here to make a speech." Jack couldn't talk about just how many times Mac had saved his life, not with this mixed crowd. But he could acknowledge it a little. "Mac has saved my life, and countless others, in the service of his country." That was a safe enough comment that those in the know would understand and those who weren't would get at least a little. "And it's been an honor to serve with him, to get to keep working with him, and to grow into a member of his family."

Now he was getting choked up and there was nothing for it but to let it happen.

"A lota you already know, I just welcomed a couple beautiful babies into the world with my beautiful wife Sarah." Applause swept the room. "And of course you all know Miss Freddie," he said, waving to the little girl who was starting to lose patience with her fancy flower girl dress.

When everyone one clapped for her Freddie bounced up and down giggling. "Da!" She shouted.

Jack grinned. "Those guys are easy." He paused. "Probably because I had other help figuring out the complicated parts. Riley Davis has been helping me hone my dad instincts since she was about ten."

Riley waved at everyone when that got another smattering of applause.

"But, a couple years ago, she helpfully pointed out that sometimes fully functioning adults aren't used to having a dad around, so I should only flex those muscles if they ask."

"That's right, Old Man!" Riley called out with a grin.

"I'll try to remember, too. Maybe," Jack chuckled. "But for a long time, I couldn't wait for that. Because if I did, someone would never have opened his mouth to so much as admit his socks were wet, even if he was drowning."

He glanced at Mac who was doing his level best not to start twisting his napkin again.

"Growing up, I always thought family was easy, family was blood. You know? You share a last name and that's enough … And while I'd like to take credit for teaching all these kids a few lessons, what they taught me was that's a load of crap."

He caught the flash of Mac's smile then and cleared his throat.

"Family is so much more than that. It's shared hours and days, shared hardship and joy. It's shared defeat and shared victory. And it's complicated. Names don't mean as much as I thought. A man can give a kid his name, but if he doesn't give him his love, too, I'm not rightly sure he can call himself a man, and he sure as hell doesn't have right to call himself a dad."

Mac was looking right at him then and gave him an almost overly firm-jawed nod.

"And I guess blood does matter, but only as much as if someone's willing to shed it with you … or maybe donate it to you …"

Jack passed and flashed Mac a smile, just to make sure this wasn't too much. Mac just nodded again.

"Once you have all that, it doesn't really matter how you got there. That's as much family as you ever need. And it don't matter if the kid in question calls you Sarge, or Brother, or Pops … or Jackass." Tension broke again and he heard Mac laugh a little. He faced the couple fully. "You know you gotta always be there for 'em. Because they're always there for you." He cleared his throat again, finding himself suddenly close to tears. "So I guess I said all that just to say it was an honor to stand up with you today, Mac, and it's an honor to be part of your family. And I couldn't be happier that that family just got a little bigger."

Mac's eyes had a familiar shine to them and Mel didn't even pretend she wasn't a little teary.

"So congratulations and all that. Just know you got yourselves an Overwatch. Both of you."

The pair exchanged a look and rose at the same time. Jack found himself wrapped in a multidirectional hug that was, after a moment, joined by Riley too. Applause swelled around them at their spontaneous display of love and affection.

Jack was about ready to break down when he heard a tiny shout, "No! My Da!"followed by Freddie running at their legs full tilt to get in on the hug.

He thought he might cry for real though when Mac scooped her up and asked earnestly, "How 'bout we share him, Freddie Spaghetti?"

"Yus!" she agreed and wrapped Mac in a tight hug.

After a minute or two, Mac, with Fred still on one hip, turned to the crowd, a good number of which had clearly developed a spontaneous case of the temporary sniffles. The room quieted. Mac gave a little shake of his head. "It is egregiously unfair to expect me to follow that with anything."

Everyone laughed. Mac smiled his shy smile. That hadn't exactly been a joke.

"I had a whole thing written down, but it's palpably inadequate to this situation." He shrugged. "Thank you for coming, for sharing today with us. They've said everything worth saying, except maybe … I never used to believe in luck, or on the days I did I was convinced all mine was bad and it was going to stay that way … Now I know I was wrong. I'm the luckiest man alive. It's a cliche to say that on your wedding day, but that doesn't stop it from being true." Jack extracted Fred from Mac's arms so Mel could hand him his glass. She picked up her own, then slid her free arm around him. "To luck, and if your luck fails, to improvising."

The crowd toasted them, applause rang out again, the music started, but in a way Mac was in his own quiet pocket universe away from it all. As the choir of well wishes had rung out, he'd seen someone quietly enter the reception hall. The man in question looked very serious and was talking earnestly to Matty, whose smile quickly faded.

Mel leaned in. "I thought he wasn't coming."

Mac nodded. "Me, too."

"Should we go ..?"

"Yeah." They put down their glasses and headed across the room.

"Dad." Mac didn't wait for acknowledgement. "I thought you couldn't make it."

Matty stares daggers at James who just straightened and fixed a smile on his face. "Change of plans. Congratulations to both of you."

It was stiff and formal, and it felt much more like things had at first between them. Mel's eyes narrowed. "Thanks," she said simply.

Mac took a breath. "You look like you're here on business. Something we should know?"

James glanced at Matty, then shook his head. "Nothing that won't keep."

Mac frowned. "Okay." The DJ announced the first dance. Mac took Mel's hand and turned to head onto the dance floor. "Thank you for coming."

Mel squeezed Mac's hand. His voice had taken on a sad, resigned quality she hadn't heard in a long time. James nodded at them and his smile became a shade more genuine. "My pleasure. Your gift is up at the cabin. I hope that's okay."

Mac relaxed. "You didn't have to get us anything, but whatever it is, that's really nice, Dad."

They moved onto the dance floor, the heat of the spotlight and the scrutiny of the crowd sort of drowning out the music. As other couples started to join them, they relaxed a little. Jack and Sarah subtly danced their way over. "Hey, nice to see your old man came to wish you well, kid."

Mel grimaced. "He's up to something."

Mac almost laughed at the suspicious look Mel and Jack shot across the room at the same time. "Usually," he agreed with a smirk. "But like he said, it'll keep. Let's just enjoy ourselves and get out of here for Honeymoon Take Two."

Mel smiled and deliberately looked away from where James was talking to Matty. "I like the sound of that. What are the odds whatever he's up to doesn't screw with our plans though."

"I already said, Mel. You changed my luck for the better. And if for some reason I run out of it, I've got lots of practice with improvising."


End file.
